


Mon Capitaine

by Rose_de_Noire



Category: Beauty and the Beast (2017)
Genre: Bisexual Gaston (Disney), M/M, Redemption, at least in LeFou's eyes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-07
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2018-10-16 00:32:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 32
Words: 37,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10560370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rose_de_Noire/pseuds/Rose_de_Noire
Summary: Gaston is not the best at talking about important things, luckily LeFou is very fluent in reading him.Timeline: after the fall, before the ball, while the ball and after the ball.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Dear readers and fellow shippers (bargemen?), I took the liberty to give the guys names. As in a family name for Gaston and LeFou got a birth name.  
> And I am pretty sure the rating will go up in later chapters! ^.~

 

“Fidélio…” the voice from the bed is weak and feverish and more than enough to have LeFou shoot straight up from his chair.  
  
“Fidélio!” There’s a hint of panic and desperation now.  
  
But all LeFou can do is stare at the battered man on the bed, frozen in shock at hearing his birth name and not the moniker they had mutually agreed on.  
Just as he does not call Gaston Capitaine anymore.  
  
Though right now, in the wake of a very distressed noise, LeFou reaches out and grabs Gaston’s uninjured hand, squeezing the clammy fingers and murmures, “I’m here _mon Capitaine_ .” He watches as Gaston’s chest rises and falls in a deep, shivering sigh, and sits back down in his chair.  
He does not let go of the hand in his.  
  
“You need to wake up,” and LeFou is not sure what to call him now, Gaston or mon Capitaine, and so he doesn’t say anything.  
  
LeFou must have fallen asleep as he’s startled awake by a frightened call of “no you _fool_ , stay there, leave me!”  
And just like that LeFou remembers, his own breath labored, cold sweat on his skin.  
  
He is back in the trench, muskets blaring, bullets flying low, dirt spraying up and Captain Gaston with a bullet through his leg out in the open. The bullet caught because he made sure his men got to the trench.  
LeFou - still Fidélio at the time, did what gained him his name, The Crazy One, and darted out, reaching for his Captain's baldric and pulled, dragged him off into the trench.  
  
LeFou, now, shudders once, violently, and sinks heavily against the backrest, cursing rather colorfully, dragging his own shaking hand down his face. “Merde.”  
And isn’t this memory exactly the reason he has searched the grounds of the freshly transformed castle, to at least give the man he remembers, the honorable, loyal Captain Gaston Grosse, an appropriate burial?  
  
“Well, hard to kill as usual, heh, mon Capitaine?” LeFou teases, a small smile on his features, and bends to pull the covers back up over the unconscious Gaston, patting his undressed shoulder.  
“Just do not leave me hanging this time, yes, you bugger?”  
He does not expect an answer and thus startles as Gaston’s uninjured hand closes around his wrist and the man murmurs, more unconscious than awake, “never, Fidélio.”  
It breaks LeFou’s heart all over again.

 

***

  
It’s several days later when Gaston wakes and is aware of his surroundings for the first time, fever abated. His eyes take in the antler decorations of his own bedroom, trail over to where a soft snoring is heralding LeFou’s presence. He looks at the man but can’t handle the view. There’s nothing right with LeFou pale and jaded, sleeping in Gaston’s overdecorated armchair, curled up under a bearskin.  
He averts his eyes, stares back up at the ceiling and tries to remember how he ended up patched up and aching all over in his bed, LeFou by his side.  
Once he does, all that counts is that _he left LeFou behind_ .  
At this moment, he can’t feel another sliver of pain besides the ache in his chest as the guilt hits him like the musket shot of old. And he’ll never admit how raw his voice sounds as he whispers, “Fidélio.”  
It’s apparently still loud enough to wake LeFou, as the man startles upright and his eyes fly open. “Mon Capitaine!” Then he takes a closer look at Gaston and the bearskin slides to the floor as he stands and moves over to the bed, revealing rumpled and still blood spotted clothing. “Gaston! You are awake!”  
Gaston gives a small nod, feeling too exhausted and overwhelmed at the moment, then pulls his poised personality up like a shield. “You need a bath.”  
LeFou’s face crumbles from a smile to a hurt frown and Gaston sighs, “go, take care of yourself, I’ll survive until you’re back, LeFou.”  
A small smile creeps back onto LeFou’s face at Gaston’s special brand of care, though Gaston knows he still owes him an apology. Even though there is really no way he deserves forgiveness for abandoning _LeFou_ in the midst of battle. Everything else, well, he does not care.  
Gaston gives a thankful smile as LeFou passes him a cup of fresh, sweet water and then supports him as he drinks.  
They don’t speak more at the moment and once Gaston is laid back on the bed, already exhausted from such little activity, he watches LeFou leave the room.  
Gaston closes his eyes and tries to come up with a worthy apology. He is not very good at them. He only ever apologises to LeFou.  
He begins with something he’s adept at, taking stock of his injuries, hoping there will not be too many scars once he heals. None would be best, but Gaston remembers he fell from very high. How did he even survive, he wonders.  
His left leg seems to be broken, once or twice, no open fractures, it doesn’t feel like the open wound the bullet had left. His right arm is broken too, the splint evidence enough, the hand bandaged up, shoulder too. Gaston is glad none of his fingers are splinted, there is hope to move that hand again. He lifts his left arm, beside some deep scratches uninjured, and feels his head. There’s a bandage around it and - he freezes and actually _whines_ \- a good chunk of hair missing. “My hair, my gorgeous hair!”  
But even this pales compared to _abandoning LeFou_ .  
His friend has saved his life in the field more than once. True, Gaston has saved him too. They always look out for each other. They _had_ always looked out for each other. Gaston sighs again and plays with a lock of his hair, wonders what to say when LeFou comes back.  
But he misses LeFou coming back as his exhaustion takes its toll.

 

***

 

LeFou heeds Gaston’s advice and washes himself and puts on a set of the spare clothes he keeps at Gaston’s. Gaston bought them, had them made, he liked to spoil his friend before the whole Belle fiasco, before the bad side of war caught back up with him.  
He even eats and prepares a little something for Gaston too. Who seems clear of mind once more, back to the Gaston LeFou used to adore. He’s not sure he still adores him. As before, even in his darkest moments, his friend had never left LeFou behind.  
Gaston’s asleep and his face looks pained when LeFou comes back. With a shrug he sits down in the chair again and eats Gaston’s small portion too. Not eating regularly for five days took its toll on LeFou, too.  
Whenever he looks at Gaston his heart is squeezed in a vice and it makes him remember all their good and bad times. There are more good memories than bad ones to LeFou’s relief.

Once this plate is empty too, he puts it on the nightstand and reaches for the healing balm, which is almost gone. LeFou does not look forward to having to buy more, the apothecary already didn’t want to give him this pot once they realized it was for Gaston, until LeFou pulled out more coins and showed off the giant bruise he himself had suffered from the maestro. He absentmindedly pulls his shirt up and rubs a hand over his stomach, but no balm, and then finally turns back to Gaston, prepared to take care of the man.  
His eyes unexpectedly meet with Gaston’s, who stares thoughtfully at him.  
LeFou freezes and looks down on his hands, not sure what to say. Gaston surprises him again right away as he begins to speak in a very soft voice. It’s the voice only LeFou and wounded soldiers ever got to hear from Captain Gaston.  
  
“I don’t know why you take care of me. I certainly do not deserve it. Still I offer up my apologies to you, Fidélio.”  
  
LeFou looks back up and his breath is caught at the intensity and sincerity in Gaston’s face and he stares at him as Gaston continues, reaching out a hand to tug at LeFou’s still untucked shirttails.  
  
“You got injured on my behalf once again, show me?”  
  
And because it’s a question and not an order and Gaston’s voice is slightly trembling, LeFou jerks up his shirt after placing the balm back down.  
He looks away from Gaston again, eyes fixed on an antler on the wall. He really does not want to get weak at this moment and just forgive Gaston like that. It’s not as though the man deserves it, yet.  
LeFou’s breath catches as Gaston’s big hand touches the bruise tenderly and then is pulled back again. He’s about to drop the shirt back down when the hand is back with balm and rubs it in carefully and LeFou freezes, but squeezes out, “there’s not much balm left, we should use it on you, _mon Capitaine_ .” He still does pointedly not look down.  
  
Gaston gives a derisive snort, then speaks up. “If you would kindly remember, even though I apparently forgot about it for a while there,” LeFou never heard him remorseful, but now he does, “you are as important as I am, if not more so, Fidélio.”  
  
LeFou trembles slightly after this, but turns around obediently as Gaston pats his side and lets him spread the last of the balm onto his back.

 

 

  
  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here, I offer up a new chapter to you! ^.^  
> Stan's a true friend.

It’s the next day LeFou finally gets himself to go to the apothecary. They are in need for more balm and bandages, even though he could mock up some bandages by cutting up Gaston’s pristine sheets. LeFou grins at the thought, but it falters as soon as he remembers Gaston using the last balm on him, accompanied by those words. He will never forget them as long he’ll live, nor the color of Gaston’s voice as he spoke them.  
Not much later, LeFou stands in a small alley beside the apothecary, hands balled into fists and trembling. He’s angry enough to punch the next poor sod coming along. He closes his eyes and murmurs, “deep breaths. Deep, deep breaths.” LeFou is not sure his happy thoughts will still work, but he tries anyway and focuses on the first one.  
Gaston shouldering LeFou’s pack alongside his own on a long march, quipping, eyes twinkling, “I don’t want to be delayed!”  
LeFou’s breath calms a notch and he pulls up the next memory. This time the one of Gaston in the trenches after a skirmish and a day’s walk. Gaston too tired to eat, half eaten bowl of ragout in his lap, falling asleep, his head on LeFou’s shoulder.  
LeFou’s fists slowly uncurl too, but he keeps his eyes closed and pulls up his favorite memory of all. A bone-chilling night in a tent, LeFou shivering and teeth clattering, trying not to wake Captain Gaston. Then suddenly the furnace of a man turning and folding himself around LeFou to share his own heat. Chest to back and snoring little bursts of warmth into LeFou’s neck.  
LeFou sighs and relaxes enough to open his eyes and instantly raises his fists back up into a defending pose, only to see Stanley stagger a few steps back lifting his hands in surrender.

“LeFou my friend, what upset you so much?”

LeFou slowly lowers his hands, then gives Stanley an assessing look and finally nods, explaining. “I wanted to get some healing balm and bandages,” he points accusingly over his shoulder, “but they won’t sell me any as they know I will use it on Captain Gaston.” He uses the title on purpose, because he knows Stanley has been a soldier too. LeFou then watches a little confused as Stanley stretches his hand out, palm up.  
Stanley waggles his fingers then smiles, “I don’t have as many coins as you and the Captain, but I’ll get you what you need!”  
LeFou stares at him for a moment longer and finally hands over the money with a small nod and an unspoken threat. He does not like to give Gaston’s money to someone else.

Stanley looks at the small fortune he holds and nods once in return, then orders, “you wait here, I’ll be right back!”

LeFou does as he’s told and bids his time by musing about the honest to God apology he’s gotten the day before. From Gaston nonetheless.

 

***

 

On the one hand Gaston is bored out of his skull and on the other his mind is racing. He needs to come up with something. He needs to do something to deserve LeFou’s forgiveness.  
It feels exceptionally strange to think so much about another person. It feels even stranger to actually want to do something for them. But it is LeFou. And Gaston would take a shot for him if it made up for what he did. It won't, so he stuffs the gun back into the nightstand.  
Gaston comes to the conclusion that he needs a distraction. But there’s nothing in his bedroom besides his dresser, washbasin, pitcher and his shaving kit, and the huge chair. All of it way out of his reach.  
“I’d even take that fairytale book Belle lugged around!” He lets out a groan of frustration and then, not a moment later a whoop of joy. This is it, this is the perfect thing! And on top of it, he’d promised LeFou one night as they sat by the fireside in the field. Gaston truly gets a little excited at the prospect of making one of his friend’s shyly uttered wishes come true.  
He’s awake as LeFou returns from the market and peeks into the bedroom. Gaston gives him a dazzling smile as he greets him, “welcome home, Fidélio!” Gaston even lifts his hand for a short wave. “Did you get everything?” And his smile softens as LeFou nods in answer, “oui mon Capitaine.” Gaston doesn’t ask how many coins it cost to get the things. He knows the whole story about the beast by now, as LeFou told him everything last night. Apparently trying to preemptively rid the village of the threat by a foe, be it man or beast, who kept two of them prisoners for an undetermined amount of time, was an unwelcome thing now. The only thing they both still have no answer for, is how he’s survived. By all means, Gaston’s neck should be broken. Maybe he got caught in the magic wave which restored the castle and its inhabitants.  
Who knows?  
Gaston must’ve dozed off once again, he does that an awful lot lately, because he’s roused by LeFou’s clanging of pots from the kitchen. Gaston’s stomach gives an appreciative growl at the thought of his friend’s cooking.

They eat together, Gaston propped up in bed, against a heap of all the pillows he has in his house and probably LeFou’s too, LeFou in Gaston’s huge throne-like chair. Once they’re done and LeFou picks up the dishes and makes to leave the room, Gaston speaks up. “Bring me a book from the study if you will when you come back, LeFou?” He adds a “please” after a moment.

 

***

 

Because one simple “please” makes all the difference, LeFou is rifling through Gaston’s study after he did the dishes. But really, almost all these books look the same to him. All sleek brown or red leather and no pictures to guess what the stories in them are about. And so LeFou calls over his shoulder, voice bordering on the side of annoyance, “Gaston, if I bring you your accounts it’s entirely your fault! You know I am illiterate!”

There’s a low chuckle coming from the bedroom and LeFou is ready to just slam the book he holds to the floor. But then Gaston makes it all right again as his voice floats over.  
“Well, we’re about to remedy that. Just pick one and come back in here!”

He almost drops the book at these words, remembers the night by the fire, the night before a fight. Gaston asked him what LeFou would wish of him when they’d be home. At LeFou asking in return, “what?” Gaston had just shrugged and told him that he meant anything, they would just need something to look forward to. And as Fidélio could hardly say that all he wished for was to have Gaston, he confessed his second dearest wish, “to read and write, I only know how to draw my name.” Gaston had promised to teach him when they’d be home, as there would be more than enough time. They didn’t get to it, instead the Belle fiasco happened.

They struggle through the lines and Gaston has him get something to write from the study for the both of them, and they now use two books as blotter pads on their knees. Gaston draws some letters on one sheet of very expensive paper, all the while he laments how uncouth they look as he has to use his left hand. Once he is done he passes off the paper to LeFou and has him redraw them with the words, “we’ll take care of the shape once I can use my other hand again.”  
So now LeFou’s copying them while Gaston explains him how they’re pronounced and strung together. It takes LeFou an embarrassingly long time to realize that he’s writing their names. Even though he’d drawn his own before. But there seems to be a difference between actually knowing the letters you write, or just following a template.

LeFou blinks once, then concludes, staring a little closer at Gaston’s name he just wrote out for the tenth time. “It is only one T but two S! It’s G-A-S-T-O-N G-R-O-S-S-E!” And he claps his hands, forgetting about the quill he still holds. Only to realize that Gaston’s neither a patient man or fond of ink splatters, but as he looks up from his writing, LeFou’s breath stutters. Because Gaston is smiling at him despite some ink spots on his cheek.

“Yes, and it is,” Gaston says through his smile, “F-I-D-É-L-I-O M-O-N A-M-I.”

LeFou really tries to hold himself back, but in the end he reaches over anyway and uses his fingers to rub the ink splotches of off Gaston’s cheek. He’s pretty sure he blushes something awful.

 

Fidélio mon ami: Fidélio my friend.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Easter bargemen.  
> And LeFou's so humble.

The very next day, LeFou has just sat down at the kitchen table at Gaston’s to practice more of his letters, there’s a knock on the kitchen door from the outside. LeFou looks up and absentmindedly chews on his quill, guessing who it might be. There had been a few instances of villagers dropping by only to spew abuse at him in the thirst three days. He has not taken well to it and scared the last one of them off for good by aiming a gun at their head.   
The knock sounds again, more insistent and then accompanied by a voice LeFou knows. “It’s me, Stan, I have something useful for the Captain and a letter from the castle. They brought by a bunch to hang up around town, and I can’t read it!”   
LeFou’s honestly relieved that it’s Stanley and he gets up to pull the latch and open the door and greet him. The first thing he takes note of is the rather huge crutch Stanley carries and he looks questioningly at it.   
Stanley walks into the kitchen as LeFou steps aside and then leans the crutch against the table, curiously looking at the strewn about writing utensils, but doesn’t mention them, instead points at the crutch. “It was my papa’s, you remember him?”   
LeFou nods, “he was a good man. Everyone liked him.”   
“Yes, and a huge man. The crutch should easily hold Gaston up!” Stanley agrees with a smile, then offers up the notice, “would you mind to have the Captain read this for me?”   
LeFou takes the notice and turns it the right way up and then focuses on the letters. And reads a little stuttering, “B...ba… ah, ball!” The next two words are easy, but the last one not so much. “Ball at the ceee...ceaaa,” no that sounds wrong, so he tries again. “Castle! Ball at the Castle!” But that’s as far he can get, because the words beneath are strung together in awfully small letters. He lowers the paper and catches Stanley’s disbelieving look and shrugs.   
“Gaston’s teaching me to read and write, but I’m a bit slow.”    
  
Stanley nods and then asks, “would you mind to ask him to read the rest to us?”   
  
LeFou thinks about it for a moment, then shakes his head only to nod an instant later. “I was about to bring him some morning tea,” he reaches for the pot as he speaks and places it on the small tray beside a cup, then takes the note and shoves it under the saucer. “You can have a tea too, Stanley, just please serve yourself, I’ll be back in a moment!”   
  
  
***   
  
  
“ _ Mon Capitaine _ ?”   
  
Gaston slowly blinks awake, he has fallen back asleep once they had breakfast, and instantly lights up into a smile at the sight of LeFou with a tray of tea. “Bonjour, Fidélio!” Gaston beckons LeFou closer, pats the bed by his side with his left hand. But apparently he is still not fully back in his friend’s good graces, as LeFou pointedly sits down in the antler decorated chair once again after helping Gaston into a seating position.   
Gaston frowns at the lonely cup and then looks up at LeFou, “no tea for you, my friend?”   
  
LeFou shakes his head and Gaston watches as he lifts a sheet of paper from the tray after passing the cup and saucer over to him. “Stanley is in the kitchen, he brought a sturdy crutch and this.”   
Gaston holds out the cup towards LeFou and they exchange, paper against tea. “Ball at the Castle,” LeFou explains, then blushes.   
Gaston nods, then reads aloud unprompted, curious himself. “Ball at the castle, all gents and ladies of Villeneuve are cordially invited to the ball given in the honor of Prince Adam and Princess Belle, at the date of…” Gaston stops to take a deep breath then adds. “This is Saturday in a week. They provide, and I quote, ‘adequate clothing for those not able to afford it. You are entreated to appeal to the castle anytime from Monday to Thursday’.”   
Gaston lets the paper sink onto the covers, then gives LeFou a soft look. “You should attend. I know how much you like to dance. And the clothes we got you for my,” he laughs a little jaded and gestures with his left. “The  _ Belle fiasco, _ should be perfect. You are handsome in them, and the moustache does the rest, Fidélio.” He likes the thing, it makes LeFou look a little rakish. No one will be able to resist him.    
  
  
***   
  
  
As he returns to the kitchen LeFou walks on clouds. It’s not that LeFou is able to eradicate his feelings. He can hide them, ignore them, but erasing is another matter. And Gaston just called him handsome. To his face, without getting a gain out of it. LeFou is so far off in his daze that he forgets that Stanley is still there and so he startles as the man addresses him. He doesn’t even catch what Stanley says. “Uhm, excuse me, Stanley, what did you say?”   
  
“I asked if the Captain told you what the the paper said, LeFou!” Stanley seems to be a bit upset, but LeFou doesn’t even notice it as he practically purrs.   
“ _ Mon Capitaine _ said it’s an invitation for the whole village. Those who don’t possess appropriate clothing are to report at the castle this week and will be loaned clothes.” He smiles, then offers easily, “you can take my horse for the ride there to get fitted and pick them up, I won’t need it this week, Stanley.”   
  
Stanley nods and utters a small thank-you, then gets up to leave and LeFou shakes his hand.   
“Thank you for the crutch, I’m sure Gaston will appreciate it very much. I’ll make sure you’ll get it back when he doesn’t need it anymore!”   
Once Stanley left, LeFou sits down and goes back to his studies. But all he does until Gaston calls for him once more, is writing out Gaston’s name and his own side by side.   
  
Later, as he makes dinner for them both, between cutting up vegetables and some of Gaston’s game, he thinks about what Gaston did over the last few months. How he had treated LeFou. Maybe it had only been weeks. Before they’d always been equals. Even in the trenches as Gaston was his superior. True, they both had different tasks and roles in their friendship, but where it counted they had always been on a par. And all of a sudden he can pinpoint the exact moment it changed. And he wants to be anywhere with Gaston but in Villeneuve. He suddenly hates the town with a passion. Because all had changed upon their return and the moment they rode back into town.

  
  
  



	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Stanley here, I just like Stan, so bear with me. Stan's a good friend!

 

They settle into a comfortable domesticity the week before the ball. LeFou is glad for it, it’s nice to sit with Gaston and have him teach LeFou to write and read, and to just spend time together in peace.  
It comes as a surprise as Gaston insists to give his thanks for the crutch to Stanley personally after he’s used it for two days. So LeFou invites Stanley in for a drink as he brings back Galette after his ride to the castle. They all sit down in the study, Gaston’s splinted leg propped up on a pile of pillows beside LeFou on the lounge. All of them drinking several glasses from the best of Gaston’s brandy.   
  
“... and the castle is so huge! And beautiful! All light and white marble and expensive drapery!” Stanley is babbling excitedly after his third glass and LeFou gives him a smile, then looks at Gaston and implies a shrug. They both know where the money of noblesse comes from. Sure, Gaston has inherited and was in the army and therefore can afford to splurge a tad bit without doing most of these things. But Gaston’s father had been another matter. The old man had taken in taxes where he could.   
And then LeFou’s head swivels to Stanley because he’s not sure he heard the last thing correct, but Stan’s blushing something fiercely now, clutches his glass and glances at Gaston a little frightened. So LeFou’s sure the man just told them that the ladies’ dresses for the ball are much prettier than the men’s clothes and that he wishes he could wear one of those instead. So LeFou looks over at Gaston too, but to his great relieve the Captain’s only smiling indulgently and lifts his glass. “You’d make a fine lady, Constance!” There’s not even a hint of mockery in Gaston’s tone.   
Stanley blushes even more, lets out a giggle and downs his glassful of brandy in one huge gulp.   
  
LeFou stares disbelievingly at Gaston, but all he gets for his dropped jaw is a small shrug. He reasons to himself that Gaston hasn’t drunk in weeks and probably is already too far gone to bother. Which seems to be the right thought. Because as they’re alone again and Gaston gets up he sways so dangerously that LeFou pulls his healthy arm over his shoulders to help him along.   
“You’re such a good friend,” Gaston slurs and leans a bit more heavily onto LeFou, “the bestest friend, Fidélio.”   
LeFou smiles at this and gently lowers Gaston into the bed. He helps him to tuck in and, encouraged by his own four or five brandies, he gives in to his own curiosity. “I thought you’d chase Stanley out with his own father’s crutch after he let that slip, Gaston. And I can not stop wondering why you didn’t.”   
Gaston looks half asleep already and LeFou doesn’t expect an answer, but he gets one anyway. “It’s not that he can change how he feels.” LeFou blinks stunned at this much sympathy from _Gaston_ . He straightens up again and so barely catches the slurred whisper coming from the bed.   
“All the likes of us can do is live with us and try to avoid the scaffold.”   
LeFou shakes his head as he douses the lamps and leaves the room. He must have misheard the last part.   
  
  
***   
  
  
As he wakes up in the morning Gaston’s head is pounding and his mouth dry. He can’t remember when he last felt this bad after a night of drinking. He uses his healthy arm to push himself up with a painful groan, not knowing what hurts more, his leg or his head. He’s really glad that he fell asleep still halfway dressed and doesn’t have to bother with a shirt.   
He reaches for the crutch, uses it to get himself to sit up properly and pulls a face, hoping his stomach settles down again, or LeFou will have to clean up the floor. Gaston takes a few deep breaths and consoles himself with a raspy voice. “Easy there, handsome. You’re not going to be sick like a youngling after his first beer.” Not that he’d ever been that sick after a drink. Once his stomach calms a little he reaches for the water cup on the nightstand and downs it in one go. He’s about to heave his splinted leg out of the bed as he remembers his last words to LeFou. “Oh mon Dieu, he’s going to think I like to wear dresses.” He decides he doesn’t care at the moment and finally stands up to hobble over to the window, pulling it open, taking in a deep breath. Gaston wonders if he manages the stairs today, then gives a pouty sigh. Better not to try. He really does not fancy to get yelled at again by LeFou and to be forcefully picked up and moved back to bed. Although that last part hadn’t been too bad and Gaston still wonders how he’s never realized how strong LeFou has become over the years. But, considering how his friend always keeps up with him, Gaston really shouldn’t be _that_ astounded. It’s this moment too that he remembers the times LeFou had picked up Gaston’s game as if the deer weighed not much more than the average tankard. There’s a yell coming from outside and Gaston looks down, seeing LeFou walking towards his house, head up, hair flying in the breeze like a halo, steps intent. There’s a villager running towards LeFou, talking in hasty and unfriendly words from the sounds of it. LeFou ignores the man with stoic calm, that is until the man reaches out to hold onto his shoulder and shake him. Gaston’s mouth curves into a proud and admiring smirk as LeFou whirls about and closes his hand around the man’s wrist and moves the offending appendage off his person with apparent ease.   
Gaston turns away from the window and moves to the top of the stairs to shout a greeting as LeFou enters the house. He is greeted in return with a broad smile. Which only makes Gaston smile all the more.   
  
  
***   
  
  
LeFou looks up at Gaston who stands at the top of the stairs and seems a little pale, but the smile on his face steals LeFou’s breath away. It’s truly dazzling and makes him forget for a moment how much he hates Villeneuve a little more every day. Instead he remembers Gaston’s last words from the night before and wonders if his captain really would like to wear a dress, or if he tried to imply something else. Something LeFou had given up long before the Belle fiasco. Either way, he would just not meet Gaston’s expectations even if the man suddenly decided to be inclined a certain way. LeFou’s just not perfect enough. He thinks he can live with this, as long Gaston doesn’t go back to the dark place he’s been while the Belle fiasco. He does not, under any circumstances, want to lose his best friend ever again.   
He gets torn from his musings by the noise of the crutch on the wooden steps of the stairs and he’s almost instantly halfway up, hands out to catch Gaston should it be necessary. “Oh non, non, non! Don’t you dare, mon Capitaine!”   
Gaston gives him the most infuriating little smirk and teases, “are you going to carry me back to bed again, Fidélio mon ami?”   
“If I have to…” he laughs and gently guides Gaston to his study where they’ve taken up to eat and, well, study.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Constance is the female version of Stanley and has the same meaning: constant, steadfast


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh gosh,guys! Thank you so so much for all the comments and kudos! <3

  
LeFou hums happily, it is before dawn on the day of the ball and he's reclining in the huge bathtub in Gaston’s kitchen. He’s hung a sheet in front of the window and another one across the kitchen. He has offered Stanley to use the bath after him for all the errands he’s run for LeFou and Gaston over the last few days. Still, no reason to have Stan see him naked. He can hear Gaston’s and Stanley’s laughter drifting down from upstairs and he feels a little bad for leaving Gaston all alone until the next evening. But he really wants to go to the ball and if it’s just to show them all that he doesn’t care what they think of him for still sticking with Gaston after all that happened. The villagers had been awfully quick forgetting the good things Gaston has done for them in the past.   
An hour later, he’s dressed in his best breeches, stockings and shoes, a pristine white shirt and one of Gaston’s red banyans, so he does not mess up anything while shaving. LeFou thinks he looks dashing and dapper as he gives his own reflection a wink while taking care of his hair and tie. “Hello handsome, I have you know, you look dreamy!” He’s in Gaston’s dressing room and enjoys all the amenities coming with it. Like the huge mirror, the very soft brush and Gaston’s pomades and scents. LeFou smiles at the thought of smelling like his captain, it makes him feel all confident. Even more so than usually.   
He is just putting on his vest and frock coat as Stanley knocks on the doorframe. Turning around LeFou gives Stanley a look-over then smiles, “looks good, Stan.”   
Stanley looks LeFou up and down, then breathes, “you look better though. Regal, like true nobility.”   
LeFou doesn’t really know what to say, but he nods a thanks and looks around for his riding cloak.   
“My rented horse is lame.” Stanley’s voice is timid as he speaks, but LeFou comes up with a solution instantly.   
“We just put Galette in front of the cart, Stanley! Don’t worry, he should make it in time!” They would be faster on horseback than behind a horse, but it is the best solution they have. He can hardly ask Gaston to borrow Magnifique, he’s possessive of the horse.   
Stanley helps him to bring up food and water from the kitchen to the study, even though LeFou is well aware that Gaston  _ will _ go down the stairs, probably even as soon as they leave him alone. Currently Gaston’s hiding from their bustling in his bedroom, reading Shakespeare, which LeFou knows because he peeked at the title, Macbeth.   
  
“I’m going to tell Gaston we’re leaving!”   
  
  
***   
  
  
Gaston is so absorbed in the play that he doesn’t catch the knock on the half open door, but then LeFou clears his throat and Gaston looks up. He is blatantly staring and he knows it, but he can’t stop for the life of him. “Fidélio, you are gorgeous,” it just slips out, but it is the truth. “Take Magnifique. A man like you needs to arrive on a fiery steed. No one will be able to resist you, mon ami.” Gaston gives LeFou an almost wistful smile then adds. “Spare a dance for me, will you?”   
LeFou gapes at him, then nods with a small, dazzled smile, blush high on his cheeks. “Oui  _ mon Capitaine _ , thank you, Gaston, mon ami!”   
Gaston waits until he’s left the bedroom, then hobbles to the window to watch him ride off. He  _ needs _ to see LeFou on Magnifique. How has he never realized that he has perfection right under his nose? One should not get used to perfection to the point of overlooking it.   
Gaston watches as LeFou leads Magnifique out front, then passes the reins to Stanley to hold the horse, while he mounts it. He also catches the look Stanley gives LeFou, and Gaston sees his slim chance at perfection take its leave. Because what would LeFou want with him after all that has happened between them? They are just about friends again. Nice and polite Stanley would be a much better catch for LeFou. He stays at the window anyway and watches them ride off into the morning sun.   
Once they’re out of sight, Gaston takes his crutch and moves to the study, going straight for the brandy. It’s just his luck that there’s not much left.   
  
  
***   
  
  
He feels like a king. Sitting atop Magnifique, the huge horse beneath him stomping and shaking its mane. And Gaston called him gorgeous. With eyes huge and shining. “No one,” LeFou whispers, “will be able to resist me.” He shakes his head, “no one but you, huh,Gaston?”   
  
“Don’t make such a solemn face, LeFou! We’re on the way to the ball of the year!”   
  
He looks over and down at Stanley, and for a moment he’s thrown a little at the adoring smile the other man sports, looking up at LeFou. He does not entirely welcome the look.   
LeFou wonders if this is how Gaston usually feels when they ride side by side?   
  
Gaston was right, LeFou thinks as they ride up to the the castle, he draws all eyes on them. They know the horse he’s riding as wild and coltish, and LeFou can’t resist and gives them something to stare. He makes Magnifique rear up. It’s a heady feeling as everyone stares at him with astounded eyes as he reigns the huge horse in with ease. LeFou wishes Gaston could see him.   
  
He’s talked shortly to Belle, then offered up his apologies to her and Adam, but none in the name of Gaston. They kept staring at him for a moment then gracefully accepted it. LeFou has the feeling even now, hours later, after a few dances and drinks, that they expected him to speak up in Gaston’s defense. He could have done that, he thinks as he swirls a lady around in complicated steps, but it is not his place to make apologies for Gaston, and he sincerely doubts that Gaston would apologise. He knows the man. He bows to the lady as they part and is handed yet another goblet by Stanley as he leaves the circle of dancers.   
  
“They asked for us to dance at the main-dance.” Stanley says and LeFou puts his emptied goblet onto a small table and nods. He should speak up and tell Stanley to stop looking at him like this. Because he looks at him like LeFou himself used to, no still, looks at Gaston. He thinks the same when Stanley later dances with him, but he can hardly talk to him while dancing.   
LeFou’s emptying another glass, standing on a balcony, enjoying the warm breeze while he looks back into the ballroom, when Stanley walks up to him and comes to stand a little too close for comfort. He’s about to speak up, but Stanley beats him to it.   
“It was not my intention to make you uncomfortable, LeFou. I know you only have eyes for the captain. I was just carried away.” LeFou doesn’t know how true that statement is, but he’ll take it. He smiles a little as Stanley continues. “And Constance wanted to dance with the best looking guy in there.” Stanley winks, and LeFou feels relieved enough to tease back.   
  
“Then our dear Constance better lets the man lead next time.”   
  
They both laugh a little, clink their glasses and LeFou thinks it’s nice to have a friend he doesn’t have to hide from.  
  
  
  



	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of you I didn't respond personally, you can't even fathom how much your comments mean to me! Well, that goes to everyone. I love you guys for all the support you give me. You're awesome readers!

 

LeFou looks around and sees all the happy faces while he nips on his umpteenth glass of sparkling wine. His eyes end up on Belle and the Prince, just as Adam lifts Belle’s chin up and touches their foreheads together. And it hits him. He’s so shocked he almost drops the glass. Gaston knows it. Knows that LeFou’s an invert, a sodomite. And Gaston, at his worst, had used the knowledge to manipulate him. He trembles as he swallows the rest of his wine. He may or may not be panicking a little. LeFou gets himself another glass, then moves to the balcony again, inhaling deep lungfuls of air, recollecting himself. Reminds himself of the utter respect Gaston has shown him since he woke up from his fever, how much he actually put _thought_ into proving that he _cares_ about LeFou.  
But there's all the compliments, the smiles and the looks. The words Gaston uttered drunk out of his mind. “All the likes of us…” LeFou whispers and stares out towards where Villeneuve lies.  
He is just on the side of drunk enough to wonder if Gaston is still toying with him. Trying to keep him around by fanning his unsavory attraction. He needs to know right now. So he slinks along the wall so none of the ladies will catch him to dance again. LeFou’s almost out of the ballroom as he runs into Stanley. But Stanley just gives him one look, then nods, “can’t stand to be here any longer, huh? Go ahead, I’ll find an excuse if someone asks.”  
LeFou nods and then practically runs to the stables. He finds a stable-lad and then is handed Magnifique, who’s more nervous than usual, catching on to its riders mood. They speed off.  
LeFou only realizes he forgot his riding cloak once night catches them halfway through the forest and the mist seeps coldly into his bones.  
  
  
***  
  
  
He’s much less drunk than he’d prefer. The brandy was gone around noon and sure, it gave Gaston a pleasant buzz up until mid afternoon, but then he sobered up much too fast and his thoughts turned back to LeFou. Gaston was able to deal with it for half an hour, then left the study and hobbled down the stairs and searched the kitchen for wine. He found a lonesome bottle, brought it back up with some complications and made his way to the bed. And this is were he still lies now, short before midnight, empty bottle in his hand, only the candelabra on his nightstand spending some flickering light. And he’s still thinking of Fidélio. Of the cold nights in the camps, when he wrapped his body around the smaller man, trying to warm him back up. How he used to fall asleep on LeFou’s shoulder when the days had been too long and the fighting had tired him out too much. How much he trusted LeFou, how protected and safe he always felt, still does. He swallows and thinks of how he’s forfeited his chance in a foolish moment of madness.  
Gaston’s finally about to doze off, bottle rolling off the bed with a small clang, when he hears the clomping of a horse stopping right in front of his house. He perks up a little, but right now he does not care enough to worry if one of the villagers comes to get him or not. And in the worst case, he still has his handgun in the nightstand and the blunderbuss under the bed.  
There’s no noise for a while, but then the kitchen door bangs open, sending the stacked firewood tumbling, judging by the noise of it. Gaston’s face slips into a worried frown, which deepens even more when he hears a very familiar voice spitting a string of curses. Then the kitchen door slams again, some wood is kicked around and there are heavy footsteps on the stairs. Gaston’s worry only grows, why’s LeFou already back? And why is he here and not at his own home? Were there complications at the ball?  
Gaston stares expectantly at his bedroom door and still startles as it’s pushed open with more force than necessary. LeFou stands in the door, panting hard, hair tousled, leaves and needles caught in the locks and on his frock. The dim light is just enough to make out that his face is reddened, either from anger or cold.  
Gaston sits up as well as he can, looks at LeFou and finally gives words to his worry. “Fidélio, what happened, are you well?”    
LeFou just stands there and stares at him through slitted eyes and Gaston wishes he’d speak up, as he feels, for once, undeserving of his friend’s upset glance. He has to wait a moment longer, then LeFou walks up to the bed with determined steps and looks down at him, and Gaston suddenly feels very small, still he dares to ask, “what did I do this time?”  
  
  
***  
  
  
LeFou considers for a moment what to say and how, then just blurts out, “you know how wrong I am, how disgusting, how I feel, and you played me for it. Manipulated me!” He’s yelling by the end of it and his hands are balled into fists. He stares at Gaston who stares back, eyes huge, mouth slightly open. LeFou shakes his head and then adds much calmer. “All I want to know is: do you just dole out these compliments to keep me by your side? Are you still playing me, Gaston?”  
He watches as Gaston’s face goes through an array of expressions and then stops at his serious one. “Fidélio, you’re neither wrong nor disgusting.” Gaston’s voice drops to that low rumble which is only reserved for LeFou. “And you are right, I manipulated you and left you and there’s nothing I can do to make up for it. But I swear on my honor, if it still means something to you,” LeFou feels Gaston’s fingers curl around his own hand at this. “I see every single compliment I ever gave you, and will give you in the future, as the absolute truth. You’re perfect,” there is a slow tug on LeFou’s hand, thumb stroking the inside of his wrist, so wonderfully warm, “and ice cold. Please come to bed, let me warm you.”  
LeFou stares with huge eyes and at an utter loss for words, because there is no doubt in the implications. Not with the _look_ Gaston is giving him, eyes wide open and smoldering. Not with the thumb drawing deliberate circles into his pulse. He’s frozen to the spot until Gaston tugs once more on his wrist and LeFou just sinks onto his knees at the edge of the bed and asks. “Since when?”

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

While LeFou stares at Gaston with bated breath, waiting for him to answer, he feels the heat of those strong fingers seep into his skin, warming him up enough to blush.  
When Gaston finally answers, it’s with a barely there shake of his head. “I don’t know, I’m not good at this. But you’ve always been my dearest friend. The one who means everything to me.”  
LeFou’s sure he’s going to faint. Or die. Both are a possibility. He gives a small nod and Gaston answers it with one of his own, then continues. “If you were asking me though, since when I am inclined this way too, remember Alain?”  
LeFou gives Gaston a bland look then stands up to kick his shoes off, but weaves their fingers together while he does so. He’s not going to let go now that he has what he always wanted. Then he sinks back onto the bed, leans against the headboard, stretches his legs and finally answers Gaston’s question.“De Soissons, really?” Well the soldier had certainly been pretty enough.  
Gaston nods and then sinks against LeFou, head on his shoulder, “Although I never dared to proposition anyone else besides women. Too risky.” LeFou feels Gaston sigh deeply.  
  
“What is different about me?”  
  
He feels Gaston chuckle and then the scratch of his stubble as he noses up alongside his neck to whisper into LeFou’s ear, “you are worth the risk. But I am not sure that I am worthy of you anymore, Fidélio, mon amour.”  
LeFou trembles from head to toe after this and the words “ _mon amour_ ” echo in his mind over and over as he turns his head just enough to capture Gaston’s mouth in a careful, gentle kiss.  
  
  
***  
  
  
Gaston’s eyes fall closed and he tries not to sigh into the kiss. It’s warm and soft, LeFou’s mustache tickles, and there’s the taste of sparkling wine.  
He lets go of LeFou’s hand and reaches up to cup a cold cheek, turns his body, as much as he can with his broken leg between them, into LeFou’s side. Gaston want’s to crawl into him. He feels complete for the first time since they returned from the war.  
He lets out a soft noise into their kiss as LeFou’s hands come up; one slides into his hair and the other to Gaston’s waist. LeFou pulls him closer, but the movement jars his leg and he makes an involuntary painful noise, hoping LeFou will ignore it.  
But the sweet mouth on his pulls back and LeFou’s eyes - Gaston wonders if he looks as dazed as his lover - look him over, then fall onto his leg and how it’s uncomfortably wedged between them. “Oh mon Dieu.” The words are breathless and the hands, lifting his leg back onto the pillows, shifting it into the position it belongs, are tender and then linger a bit longer around his thigh than strictly necessary. They still are as cold as ice.  
Gaston reaches out and places his left hand, the one not still in a sling, atop LeFou’s and pulls it up to his mouth, then breathes some warmth onto it. “You’re still frozen, Fidélio. Get under the covers, can’t have you getting sick too,” he teases, “someone needs to take care of poor me…”  
LeFou gives a small chuckle, leans closer while pulling the covers over them and whispers straight into his ear. “Oh, I will take care of you, _mon Capitaine_ .” It is a sultry promise and Gaston shudders, breath caught. And then he moans as LeFou nibbles on his ear.  
  
  
***  
  
  
LeFou’s mind is foggy and pleasantly overwhelmed. All he knows is that _Gaston_ is melting into him, against him and moaning in pleasure under his touches. He bends so he can gently push Gaston back down into the pillows, one hand in Gaston’s hair, the other on the thigh of his undamaged leg. LeFou sucks on the soft skin beneath Gaston’s right ear and earns another small moan, before he trails a row of small bites down his neck, making the man shiver in pleasure. He feels Gaston’s big hand come up, fingers burying into his hair and giving a gentle tug, as he shoves Gaston’s shirt collar out of the way. LeFou’s teeth sink deeper into Gaston’s shoulder than he’d intended, as the pull on his hair grows stronger. He worries about it as Gaston goes tense under him, but then there’s a loud and breathless groan, and LeFou ‘screws his courage to the sticking place’ as Gaston would say, bites down harder and sucks. He’s intent on leaving a mark.  
Gaston doesn’t seem to mind, as he only arches up against LeFou and makes more of these tempting noises. LeFou could swear there’s a whine coming from Gaston as he pulls away and looks down in the faint shine of the candelabra to admire his work. It’s more prominent than the bite Gaston had left him from their wrestling and LeFou touches it softly with his finger, tracing the indentations of his teeth. He then looks up and his eyes meet Gaston’s, they stare at each other for a long moment, then Gaston uses the grip he still has on LeFou’s hair to pull him into another kiss. Their lips almost touch when LeFou feels the tickle in his nose and he turns his head away and sneezes. He freezes up, cheeks red with embarrassment, eyes firmly closed. But then Gaston’s hand slides to the back of LeFou’s neck and rubs soothingly, while dissolving into a fit of honest to God _giggles_ . “I told you you’re frozen, mon amour. À tes souhaits!”  
LeFou thinks the giggle - who would’ve thought Gaston would make a sound like this where anyone could hear -  is the most endearing thing he’s ever heard. He opens his eyes again to look at Gaston, then smiles, bridges the last inch they’re apart and touches their foreheads together. “Forgot my riding cloak at the castle. I was in such a hurry to beat some sense into you, mon Capitaine.” His voice is low and husky and he ends the sentence with a kiss.

 

   
  
mon amour: my love

À tes souhaits: bless you


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have some minor drama. My apologies.

 

LeFou’s pleasantly warm when he wakes up. He doesn’t move though. He just wants to live a little longer in his dream, where Gaston calls him “mon amour” and pets his hair while LeFou’s head is bedded on his chest. He tries really hard to stay asleep. Until he realizes that the hand in his hair feels very real, as does the soft voice. “I know you’re awake.” LeFou almost blinks, but he keeps his eyes resolutely closed until the chest beneath his ear vibrates once more as Gaston speaks again. “Fidélio, it’s almost noon,” he falls silent, then adds, “don’t tell me you were too drunk to remember what happened?” He seems a tad bit unsure, to LeFou's ears that is. He's sure no one else could tell.   
He wasn’t too drunk, LeFou knows what happened. He remembers all the words and all the kisses and caresses. So he begins to pet Gaston’s taut stomach, on which his hand rests, through the shirt and mumbles a sleepy, “bonjour.” He feels Gaston relax under him and smiles. “I had a very pleasant dream, but the more I think about it, all evidence points to it not having been a dream at all.”   
“You think entirely too much for having just awakened…” Gaston mumbles and LeFou’s hand freezes and his back goes rigid with a pang of fear. He is afraid Gaston will end this before it really begins, pretend it never happened. Which is irrational, as he’s not yet been kicked out of bed, or off Gaston’s chest for that matter.   
“Oh non, non, non,” Gaston’s hand trails from LeFou’s hair to his back to rub calming circles atop his vest, “calm,  _ mon amour _ ! I’m not going anywhere.” He falls silent and LeFou heaves a deep breath, almost a sigh. They lie in comfortable silence for a while until Gaston’s stomach rumbles.   
“Time for your five dozen eggs?” LeFou teases and sits up, looking down at Gaston with a smile. Gaston chuckles, “you put me on the spot there, I  _ had _ to come up with a rhyme!”   
LeFou’s smile grows and he leans down, stealing a kiss, “whatever you say, you barge!”   
He’s smiling all through finally changing out of his ball clothes and then preparing food. He’s not calling Gaston out for taking the stairs and joining him awhile later, sitting down at the kitchen table, leg propped up on a chair. What he does, though, is fetching a pillow to put beneath Gaston’s leg.   
LeFou’s exuberantly happy to have his old Gaston back. And he is truly  _ his Gaston _ , now.   
  
  
***   
  
  
LeFou’s scrambled eggs are the best, if in dozens or not, and Gaston is on his second plate when he catches LeFou staring at him. He looks back and gives LeFou a wink and a smile. “What?”   
“You’re beautiful!” LeFou blushes deeply and Gaston knows the other didn’t really want to say that.    
“Of course I am,” he winks again, then licks his lips, “but so are you!” He doesn’t expect LeFou to be able to blush more, but apparently he’s wrong there. He goes back to eating after a moment, because really, he doesn’t want to make LeFou uncomfortable.   
“I made some apple tart while you got up, Gaston.” LeFou says while he puts their plates into the sink and Gaston watches him. “It should be ready by now.”   
Gaston looks up at LeFou and smiles, as LeFou turns around again. “And I wondered where that heavenly scent comes from. You’re spoiling me!” He watches as LeFou does a double take and wonders what he said to cause the reaction, then realises what it was. “I grow to think I have not been myself for much longer than the Belle fiasco, have I?” He’s always been a bit full of himself, always put him and LeFou before everyone else, knew that they were the best. Gaston tries to remember when he had begun to treat LeFou as less than himself and he comes to the conclusion that it began upon their return to Villeneuve. He begins to hate the village even more than he already does. And really, he wishes Lefou would speak up now, because his friend, now lover, just stares at him with huge eyes.   
Finally LeFou nods, “no, not since we rode into town, it got worse by the day.” He then turns to take the tart out of the oven and Gaston barely catches his next words, because they’re spoken in a bitter hiss. “I hate Villeneuve. It’s as if it’s cursed.”   
Gaston nods in agreement, but LeFou still has his back turned to him, fumbling with the tart and so can’t see him.   
  
  
***   
  
  
LeFou almost burns himself, twice. But then, it’s not everyday that all your wishes and dreams come true, and the man you’ve pined for since you can remember not only decides that you’re worthy of him, but then also proceeds to tell you that you’re the one he cares the most about. And, he thinks, eating another bite of his tart, then goes and gets back to his old self at such a fast pace. It’s like a curse has been lifted. LeFou almost chokes on his bite and then looks up to stare out the window through narrowed eyes, towards the prince’s castle. He might just have had an epiphany.   
He wants to tell Gaston, but is interrupted by the clomping and the nicker of Galette, which Stanley leads into the backyard. LeFou gets up to open the door, instead of talking to Gaston.   
He’s very curious why Stanley is leading the horse and why he’s still in the clothes from the ball, but then LeFou sees the heavy pack which is tied atop Galette’s saddle and he runs out to help. “Bonjour Stanley, what is…” the rest gets stuck in LeFou’s throat because as Stanley turns to look at him, he sees the beginning of a black eye. “Mon Dieu, Stan! What happened?” LeFou’s taking the pack off the horse and places it on the floor, then makes quick work of the horse’s gear. Stanley is just watching him and looks very close to tears, trying to dab at his eyes inconspicuously. So LeFou places a hand on his back and picks up the pack once he’s done with Galette, and leads him into the kitchen, where he drops the bundle. It’s only after he sits him down at the table and Gaston shoves a mug of cidre in front of him that Stanley finally speaks up. “They threw me out. I came home and my stuff was on the stairs." He rubs his eyes with his sleeve and sniffles a little. And LeFou can not just watch this, he has to do something and so he begins to rub Stanley’s shoulders.   
“Whatever for?” Gaston asks and leans in a bit to take a closer look at Stanley.   
Stanley looks down into his mug and sniffles a bit more, so LeFou decides to answer. “Because of us, Gaston! He’s helping us!” He squeezes Stanley’s shoulder encouragingly, “am I right?” He gets a small nod and then finds himself suddenly with Stanley’s head against his chest while the other’s eyes finally spill tears. “They also called me depraved! There… there, while the fight… Madame Gardrobe, she put me in a dress.” The tears get more heavy, and Stanley buries deeper against LeFou, sobbing. “It… it was so beautiful, felt so right.” The sob he lets out is heart wrenching and has LeFou start to pet Stan’s head. “I forgot to act like a man. They realized... I am a sick, sick person…”   
LeFou’s not used to people crying on him, but he has an inkling how Stanley feels. So he comforts him, astoundingly at the same time as Gaston, even though they use different names, “no you are not, Stanley!” Gaston calls him  _ Constance  _ again. Which has Stan pull away from LeFou and give Gaston a watery smile, much to LeFou’s surprise.   
He’s a bit at a loss, he could offer Stanley his house for the time being, but then people would talk even more. LeFou thinks about it, then comes to a decision. Villeneuve and its people can go to hell. “You can move into my house, I spend more time here anyway at the moment.” ****  
Stanley looks from him to Gaston, unsure, and LeFou’s not sure what to say, he more or less just invited himself to stay at Gaston’s. Gaston, however, gets up and limps over to them and then places his healthy arm around LeFou’s shoulders. He instantly smoothes himself against Gaston’s side, it’s a perfect fit. “LeFou’s taken care of, Constance, you can stay at his place until we find out how we proceed.”   
Stanley’s eyes go wide as he finally pulls away from LeFou for good. He gives Gaston a curiously inquiring look. Apparently Gaston understands what it means, as he bends his head down and presses a barely there kiss to LeFou’s temple. LeFou promptly blushes up to the roots of his hair, but he reaches up and closes his hand around Gaston’s on his shoulder.   
Stanley’s eyes grow even wider at the plain gestures of affection, but then he nods with a faint smile. “Thank you. I’ll leave…”   
“No, first,” Gaston interrupts him to LeFou’s never ending surprise, “first you’ll sit exactly there, and have a piece of LeFou’s apple tart!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the tarte recipe, my friends.
> 
> https://docs.google.com/presentation/d/1mvxYFBuuzMqGpNBakDUNVjqha-avCy_8NGkxkFgl5VY/edit?usp=sharing


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To everyone who left a comment and I didn't respond personally: Thank you so so much I loooove you guys! <3  
> Also: the rating got uuup!

He’s on his way back to Gaston’s and it feels weird to be decked out with a rapier _and_ a gun while walking through the little town, but Gaston insisted and LeFou could only agree. It is dangerous for them to walk alone through the dark. He doubts as well that leaving Stanley on his own is a good idea, but Stanley insisted and is armed too, so they agreed. LeFou will go over this with Gaston once more in the morning. He turns the key twice as he locks the door and pulls the latch on all shutters on the lower floor from the inside when he’s back at Gaston’s. He’s also bolted the horses in for the night.  
He finds Gaston in the brightly lit study, leg propped up on the chess table, and bent over his accounts. Instead of a greeting, Gaston says, “LeFou, I’m afraid I’ve been thinking.”  
LeFou moves to stand behind him and begins to rub his neck, “about?”  
“Leaving,” Gaston answers, tilting his head up to look questioningly at him.  
LeFou gets the unspoken question at once and asks, with a small smile, “Paris?”  
Gaston nods and returns the smile, and LeFou could be the happiest man in town if not for the one worry niggling at him. “What about Stanley, mon Capitaine?”  
Gaston’s nod is court but his smile stays and LeFou is so, so relieved when Gaston shrugs, “my late father’s Parisian estate has bedrooms to spare, more than enough for all of us.” Gaston’s smile gets promising, “and there’s the ballroom…”  
Really, LeFou is so happy to have the Gaston back he grew up with; the one he shared a bedroll with, during the war. All he can do is lean further down and kiss him.  
  
  
***  
  
  
Gaston lifts his hand and sinks his fingers into LeFou’s glorious hair. It feels as soft and thick as the pelt of vixen. Gaston has always admired it, even taken a brush to it once or twice while they’d been at the front. But now, this is entirely different. He pulls the ribbon out and huffs happily as the silky strands fall forward, covering their faces. Gaston looks up at LeFou and then smirks, “aren’t you cold after the long walk?” He knows as well as LeFou that his friend’s house is not five minutes away, but he has to try, doesn’t he?  
To his endless pleasure, LeFou joins the game and smirks right back, “chilled to the bone, _mon Capitaine_ .” His hands slide to frame Gaston’s face and then LeFou kisses him again. They part and Gaston feels the tickle of LeFou’s hair as his lover straightens.  
“Gaston,” LeFou offers him a hand to get up and Gaston takes it, but sways himself against LeFou’s chest, careful not to hit him with his still splinted arm, and buries his face into his neck and hair. He feels so needy. And so grateful when LeFou’s arms come up and around him, hands rubbing his back. Gaston pulls away after a few moments, but strokes LeFou’s cheek before he reaches for the crutch, and LeFou turns to douse the lights.  
Gaston sits on the bed and is halfway tangled up in his shirt when he gets help. When his head is finally untangled, the first thing he sees is a grinning LeFou. “You’d be lost without me, Gaston!”  
He’s been about to smile back, but Gaston’s face gets serious again and he nods, “quite true, Fidélio, quite true.” Gaston sees LeFou blink and then their foreheads touch again and LeFou whispers. “The thing is, this goes both ways, mon Capitaine.”  
  
  
***  
  
  
LeFou can’t bear all the seriousness that comes from Gaston. Not now, not tonight. So he shudders playfully and complains, while he sinks to his knees. “I’m still chilled to the bone,” he gives his most sultry wink, “warm me up?” He watches as Gaston swallows and then tangles his hand back into LeFou’s hair and pets him. He leans into the touch and reaches his own hand out to place it atop Gaston’s thigh, “shall I help you with your breeches?” LeFou hasn’t been aware that his voice could drop so low until now.  
He smiles at Gaston’s nod, reaches for the fastenings and it’s nothing he’s not done before, but never while Gaston was conscious and watching him. LeFou dips his fingers beneath the waistband and Gaston lets out a shuddering breath, while he leans back, propped up on his arm.  
LeFou takes his ample time as he tugs the breeches off Gaston's strong legs, carefully maneuvers them over the splint and then drops them on the floor. Gaston is watching him with intense eyes, following each move, and swallows again when LeFou reaches for his stocking.

He rolls the stocking down, smoothing his hands along the strong muscles, then drops it atop the breeches. LeFou lifts Gaston’s leg up and presses his lips to his calf and then moves them upwards, covering every inch with nips and kisses, the short hairs on Gaston’s skin tickling his lips. LeFou looks up when he hears a gasp and his pulse begins to race when he sees the look Gaston’s giving him. It’s full of fire and Gaston’s pupils are blown wide as he breathes, “Fidélio, what are you doing?”  
LeFou smirks and gives the soft skin right beneath Gaston’s knee a nip, “worshipping you. I thought it’s something you like, _mon Capitaine_ .” He rubs Gaston’s ankle and then lets his fingers trail over the arch of his foot, and Gaston shudders violently. “I’ve never been on this side of things, usually I...” Gaston admits with a dark, rumbling voice.  
LeFou’s own eyes widen a little at this, he knows Gaston used to bed women, so the admission comes as a surprise. “They don’t know what they missed out on, Gaston.” He gives Gaston a heavy lidded wink and then proceeds his slow way up. Once he reaches the soft skin at the topmost part of Gaston’s inner thigh he drags his tongue along the crease and then sinks his teeth into the strong muscle. Gaston above him groans and falls backwards on the bed while LeFou sucks another mark into his skin. **  
** He loves the breathless sounds Gaston makes, the involuntary arch his body seems suspended to and the slight quivering of his strong muscles when LeFou bites him again. He’s sucked no less than five marks into the endless plains of perfect skin by now. And LeFou’s positively drunk by the reality of it all. He’s hard too, uncomfortably so, the fabric of his own breeches too coarse and restricting. But he can’t move out of his kneeling position between Gaston’s legs, even though he’s just pulled back to do so, not with Gaston’s straining and precum glistening hardness right in front of his nose. LeFou stares at it, a hungry look in his eyes and then takes the hand currently not caressing Gaston’s side and closes it around Gaston with a firm grip. He watches in astonishment as Gaston’s eyes fly open and the man goes completely rigid and then spills all over LeFou’s hand with an almost desperate yell.

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just leave this here for your enjoyment, beloved readers!

He has not expected this. Not that soon at least, but there’s that heady feeling again, which only intensifies as LeFou looks Gaston over. He’s a mess. Hair fallen out of it’s ribbon and splayed over the bed in wild strands, sweat glistening on his chest and in little pearls on Gaston’s forehead, and he’s still trembling. Positively debauched. And it’s LeFou’s doing. He feels a swell of pride and is so very aroused. LeFou’s about to pull back completely from Gaston when the man reaches for his sullied hand and pulls it right back and then kisses the one clean spot on it. “Thank you,  _ mon amour _ .” Gaston still sounds breathless.   
LeFou stares at Gaston, but finally gives a small nod, unsure and too aroused to focus on what to reply. But Gaston lets go of his hand and makes a gesture towards him. “Too many clothes, Fidélio. How am I supposed to reciprocate?”   
LeFou stumbles as he gets up to undress while Gaston moves himself completely onto the bed, watching LeFou with hungry eyes. He’s never believed he’d have that look directed at himself and he also never before undressed that fast. LeFou almost falls over when he tries to join Gaston on the bed, but Gaston catches him easily with his one usable hand, fingers splayed against LeFou’s chest. LeFou feels the touch like a flame licking over his skin and tenses up for a moment. But then Gaston’s hand wanders over his skin, fingers slipping to tease a nipple and he lets out a moan of his own. “Gaston,” he wants to tell him that he does not have to do this if he doesn’t want to, but Gaston’s already pressing him down into the covers, trailing his touch lower and lower.   
  
  
***   
  
  
Gaston tries to focus on LeFou, even though he’s still slightly breathless and his mind muddled. He notes the moan with a hint of pride, as he doesn’t really know what he’s doing. But judging by what LeFou just did to him, it’s not at all that different from what one does with a lady.   
His eyes take in LeFou’s reddened cheeks, the fast up and down of his chest with every breath he takes, and all the pale skin. And he wishes he could use both his hands to worship him appropriately. He’s not even able to lean closer and put his mouth where he wants to. Gaston really wants to return the favor of marking him, but it will have to wait until he’s not weighed down by his splints anymore. So he slides his hand over LeFou and it earns him another moan when he caresses his flank, rubbing slow circles, and then directs the touch towards his goal. Gaston would like to explore more, to see what makes LeFou whimper in delight, but his poor love appears to be suffering enough already. He reminds himself of all the times they’ll be able to do this again and tries a first tentative touch to LeFou’s manhood. He elicits what sounds like a whimper of his name and feels encouraged enough to press his whole hand flat atop it. This time there's a groan and one of LeFou’s hands flies to Gaston’s wrist and clutches around it to increase the pressure.   
There’s a moment, when LeFou unexpectedly moves, where Gaston thinks he’s done something wrong. Though all LeFou does is to turn so he’s half on his side, to kiss Gaston. He all but forgets he still has his hand on LeFou’s erection at the kiss, drunken as he is of the taste. Then LeFou’s hand comes down to join Gaston’s and curls Gaston’s fingers together with LeFou’s around the hard flesh. He does as LeFou seems to wish and moves his fist up and down. And then he watches LeFou fall apart.   
  
  
***   
  
  
LeFou’s panting into Gaston’s mouth, they’re still kissing, hard and hungry and Gaston sucks on his tongue, bites LeFou’s lips. And everything feels glorious, especially as Gaston follows his lead and begins to rub him. LeFou pulls his hand away to dig his fingers into Gaston’s biceps while his mind slips more and more into the haze of bliss with every stroke. And then Gaston trails his thumb over his tip and he’s done for. His head falls back and LeFou moans Gaston’s name as he spills himself and then falls back onto the bed, blinking dizzily.   
He turns his head and freezes, watches in awe when Gaston lifts his dirtied hand up and sniffs it with a far off look, then Gaston does the unthinkable and pokes his tongue out to lick his own finger. LeFou gapes as Gaston scrunches his nose up, but then he smiles over at LeFou while he cleans the rest off on the covers. “You don’t taste bad at all, different from a woman certainly, but I’d like to try.”   
LeFou’s brain goes blank, because that is such a Gaston thing to say, but also because all he can picture is Gaston between his legs, pleasuring him.   
Once he can think clearly again, he realizes that Gaston has pulled the covers over them and placed his head atop LeFou’s shoulder and is currently nuzzling his hair.   
LeFou reaches for Gaston’s hand and intertwines their fingers, then lifts it up to press a kiss onto it. “Thank you, mon Capitaine.”   
“De rien, mon amour.” Gaston’s voice is low and warm and LeFou wants to listen to it for forever. Right now though, he needs to sleep and so he turns enough to bed his head onto Gaston’s chest and lets himself fall asleep, Gaston’s hand in his and to the soothing beat of his strong heart.   
  
  
  
De rien: you’re welcome   



	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the domesticity continues ^.~

LeFou’s curled around Gaston like a vine as he wakes up, one leg between Gaston’s and his hand wedged between the splinted arm and his body. He yawns and gently pulls the hand away from there, to not cause any, or more harm. Coming to think of it, Gaston’s arm is splinted for a good few weeks now and even though LeFou makes sure to change the bandages regularly, they haven’t yet dared to move the limb too much. He sits up with another yawn and looks down at Gaston, who seems to have a pleasant dream, judging by the smile on his face. LeFou decides they should see how good the arm holds up when he switches out the bandages today. It would be so nice to feel both of Gaston’s hands. He blushes at the selfish thought and shakes his head. It’s not the only reason he wants the arm back in motion. Gaston needs it for almost everything he does and the faster they can get rid of the splints, the sooner they can travel. LeFou trails his eyes over Gaston’s sleeping form, and isn’t that a miracle? Him awake before the great Gaston?   
LeFou’s eyes stop at one of the bite marks, the one right atop Gaston’s hip, and he blushes even more, remembering their night. He finally shakes himself out of it quite literally, hair flying, then bends down to kiss Gaston awake.   
Gaston blinks up at him, smiles sleepily and then yawns, “bonjour, Fidélio…”   
“Bonjour, Gaston,” he reaches out and pets the patch of shorter hair on Gaston’s head then brushes it back to look at the sewn scar. “This heals fine.”   
Gaston gives a nod and sounds as if he hasn’t expected anything else. “It’s your intricate handiwork, mon amour.”   
LeFou feels a prickle of warmth at the compliment, “can’t have you look less than handsome, huh?”   
Gaston laughs at this, then sits up and LeFou finds himself in an unexpected, one armed hug.   
  
  
***   
  
  
Gaston sighs and takes some more notes, he’s decided to sell his house while they had breakfast, and their move will need an awful lot of preparation and possibly money too.   
“Gaston,” he looks up from what he is writing - it looks better now, even though he still has to use his left hand - because LeFou’s voice sounds a little desperate. “Gaston, I need to do the laundry, but I honestly don’t know when and how?” Gaston looks at LeFou, arches his brow and offers “how you’d wash my hair instead of laundry?”   
LeFou looks aghast for a moment, then grins, “only if you want to walk around naked, not that I would complain,  _ mon Capitaine _ .”   
Gaston smirks at this, but then shakes his head, “no seriously, it needs a wash.”   
“So does the laundry.” LeFou deadpans.   
Now Gaston’s the one looking a little aghast, but it only lasts for a moment and then he’s laughing. “Touché!” He watches happily as LeFou joins his laugh and then comes closer to look over his shoulder.   
“What are you writing, Gaston?”   
“I am trying to figure out what all needs to be organized for the move and the sale of my house,” he explains with a small wistful smile. “Seeing that I am persona non grata, and you and Stanley along with me… Oh, this is why the woman we actually pay for it, doesn’t do the laundry anymore?” He gets a nod from LeFou and frowns, mood going dark.   
LeFou pulls him out of the descent by booping Gaston’s nose. “Stop it. No reason to get upset. We’re leaving soon. If they do not want your money anymore, who cares, right?”   
Gaston agrees with a nod, “right.”   
“When you’re selling your house and if Stan’s coming with us, sell mine too, will you? Although if Stan wants to stay, he can have it.”   
Gaston stares at LeFou wide eyed, “but it is your family home, your father built it!”   
“So did yours with your house. Well, had it built.” LeFou counters and finally leans against Gaston’s desk.   
Gaston shakes his head, “but contrary to my father, we loved your papa!” He had always felt more welcome at LeFou’s family than at his own. Gaston remembers with fondness how there always has been a plate of food and a warm place for him when he had to flee his own father’s rage.   
“Gaston, neither you nor me have need for it. I doubt we come back here.” Gaston smiles as LeFou reaches out to cup his cheek and leans into the touch, then he sighs, “still doesn’t solve our washing dilemma.”   
  
  
***   
  
  
LeFou’s laughing so hard he’s in tears, because Gaston just single-handedly solved their laundry troubles. He guesses he owns him a hair wash now. Even though the solution came up by accident. They have decided to let the laundry rest till the morrow and LeFou gave in to Gaston’s urge to be clean, looking forward to make use of the tub too, once Gaston would be done. Even though two baths in one week were really pure luxury. But LeFou decided he certainly deserves it after hauling the tub into the kitchen for the second time in the span of a few days. Then Gaston had stumbled, LeFou caught him, but dropped the to only clean shirt Gaston still owned into the tub. Gaston had looked at him, then used his crutch to angle for the drenched shirt and then suddenly exploded into his booming laughter. “You know what? Just throw the rest in too, I’ll go and get the washboard.”   
And thus they’re now sitting side by side - half undressed and Gaston’s leg back up on a chair - washing as best they can and fondly telling each other that this is miles better than to try to get blood off your uniform in a cold creek.   
They’re halfway through and LeFou just throws his last shirt in the basket as there’s a knock on the door, he shares a look with Gaston, but then a voice speaks up. “It’s me, Stanley!”   
LeFou looks between them and the door, they’re far from decent, especially Gaston with all his bitemarks. But Gaston merely drapes his banyan more careful and then binds it firmly. LeFou instantly follows his example and then calls Stanley in.   
Stanley gives them and the laundry one look and then laughs, “did I interrupt the newlyweds?”   
LeFou and Gaston throw the wet socks at the same time. Figures. 

  
  



	12. Chapter 12

  
“Can I help you, mes amis?”  
LeFou giggles as Stanley plucks one of the socks off his intricately coiffed hair, then bends to lift the other off the floor and finally daintily drops them back into the tub. “I wanted to talk to the both of you,” Stanley explains while he closes the door.  
LeFou nods and motions towards a stool, “have a seat!” But Stanley keeps staring disbelievingly at Gaston, who’s currently scrubbing one of LeFou’s breeches on the washboard with his left hand. LeFou pushes the stool closer with his foot and orders, “sit. We’re both soldiers, we know how to wash.” He watches as Stanley sits down with a small nod, while Gaston ignores them both in favor of rubbing more soap into a spot. LeFou reaches out without even looking to hold the piece of clothing in place when Gaston bites out a curse. He gets a small nod of acknowledgement and it feels so much like it did before they returned here, LeFou feels his heart soar.  
“I don’t even know where to begin,” Stanley speaks up again, absentmindedly running a finger along the edges of his black eye.  
“At the start?” Gaston interjects in his driest tone and LeFou snorts. Well he’s not wrong there.  
“Stan, take a drink, there’s cidre,” LeFou offers, “then tell us what’s eating you.” Stanley does as instructed and then begins. “I cannot stay here in the long run.” He looks crestfallen at this and LeFou gives Stanley a sympathetic look. “I will stay until the Captain’s well again but then I will need to leave…” Stanley sighs and then jumps, because Gaston just slammed the finally clean breeches into the basket and declares. “I, no, _we_ , do have an offer to make, Constance.” LeFou nods and shrugs as he catches the questioning look Stanley shoots him. “Yes, we do.”  
“We’re going to move away,” Gaston explains, eyes firmly on Stanley. “To my late father’s Parisian estate. Lots of rooms, even a ballroom. You’re welcome to accompany us, _Constance_.”  
Stanley stares at Gaston for a long moment and then seems to pull all his courage together before he speaks, voice slightly trembling. “I wanted to end Stanley.”  
LeFou freezes at these words, but then realises what they’re supposed to mean and instantly relaxes again, but looks expectantly at Gaston. He doesn’t disappoint. Which speaks for the change he’d gone through lately.  
  
  
***  
  
He could say a lot of things right now, but what Gaston says is “I’d like to have a sister, Constance.” And he gives a little bow, as awkwardly as it looks with him sitting down, leg propped up. It does the trick though, because he earns a shy smile. But then he sees Stanley’s face fall. “I can’t put that on you, Captain. I just can’t!” There’s a sound suspiciously like a dry sob. “What if anyone figures me out, you are going to hang right along with me!”  
Gaston looks over at LeFou, they share a meaningful look and it’s LeFou who reaches for his trembling hand and soothes. “No, no, listen, _Constance_. If Gaston and I hang it’s not because of you. There would be enough other reasons.” Gaston is rather proud at LeFou’s quirked eyebrow, “for example him and me sharing a bed?”  
There’s only silence for a long moment, then they get a nod. “I need to think about it.”  
Gaston nods too. “I do have another thing to ask of you, though. Would you go to Châtelaine? All three of us need to eat and I am not willing to spend my money here.” He gives an expectant look and earns another nod. “I can do that if you lend me your cart?”  
“Of course, cart, horses and money! You’d also have to bring a letter to Monsieur Jean Jacques! He will be the one tasked with selling the houses, get word ahead to Paris and to get the men together for the move.”  
There’s another nod. “I will. I think I know him?”  
  
  
***  
  
  
LeFou watches on for a moment, while Gaston and Stan keep discussing the finer details of the trip to Châtelaine, then he heaves the laundry basket up. He’s just about to leave the kitchen when Stanley darts over to open the door for him.  
“Thanks, Stanley.” LeFou smiles and moves out into the backyard where their clothes lines are. LeFou hangs the first shirt just as Stanley joins him, passing him the clothes. “Is the captain serious?” Stanley sounds as unsure as can be to LeFou’s ears and so he nods. “Dead serious. I know you all just knew him for the last few years, but _this_ , this is Capitaine Gaston Grosse. The man who almost died for his men. For me.” LeFou hangs one of Gaston’s shirts on the line and then turns to look straight at Stanley, “he won’t repeat the mistake of leaving his friends behind. He’s not that man anymore.”  
“You’ll never stop singing his praise, heh?” Stanley teases him and LeFou just shrugs.  
“I know he’s self-absorbed and a bit narcissistic. But we’re on a par where it counts.” He hangs a pair of breeches only so he’s able to look away from Stanley, then says. “He’s a good man to those he deems worthy.”  
LeFou can almost hear Stanley think, and lets out a breath as a hand lands on his arm and Stanley squeezes it gently. “I am inclined to believe that after the last few weeks. Especially after today, seeing him do _laundry_!”  
They both laugh and hang the rest of the clothes in comfortable silence. And as they come back into the house, Gaston has put out a lunch of cheese, bread and some apples, already chewing on a piece of cut up fruit. “Have a seat, eat.” LeFou nods and sits down beside Gaston, reaching for some cheese. Gaston hands him a slice of apple and LeFou puts it atop his piece of cheese and then takes a hearty bite.  
  
  
  
  
mes amis: my friends


	13. Chapter 13

LeFou slides deeper into the tub and thinks that they should just keep the thing in their kitchen as it’s too heavy to lug around. And he’d gladly heat water up more often if he’d get his back washed again by Gaston. Gaston, who’s right now waiting for his turn in the tub, sitting beside it so his left hand can reach LeFou’s back. LeFou has been almost shocked when he was offered to use the bath first. And now he’s so very relaxed that he hums the song he made up for Gaston. He starts to faintly sing and then shudders, because Gaston joins him and Gaston’s voice does _things_ to him. And the lines Gaston sings even more. “Who steals hearts like LeFou? Who's much more than the sum of his parts like LeFou? As a person, yes, he’s irresistible!"  
LeFou chuckles a little at Gaston’s butchering and mixing of their lines and they both fall silent right after. It’s a comfortable silence, warm and soothing. LeFou turns his head to look at Gaston and then says, “I like you much better like this. You were awful.” He wants to take the words back the instant they leave his mouth. Not because he’s afraid of Gaston, but because LeFou’s afraid he’s hurt Gaston. But all Gaston does is to reach out and close his fingers around LeFou's arm, giving a little squeeze.  
Huddled in a huge sheet, dried off, and Gaston only in breeches, sitting on a chair opposite him almost between LeFou’s legs, he takes off the splint on Gaston’s arm. He’s careful and as gentle as he can be, stabilizing the elbow in his hand once the frame is off. “Can you move it for me, mon Capitaine?” He waits patiently until Gaston nods and tenses his muscles, then takes his hand away, expectantly looking at Gaston’s arm.  
  
  
***  
  
  
The feel of loss is instantly as LeFou’s warm fingers slip away, but he has to move his arm now. And Gaston’s loath to admit that he’s a little afraid.  
He balls his hand into a fist and then stretches his fingers out. It stings but he repeats the movement a few times, then tenses up his muscles along his arm, only to release them after a moment, and finally he bends and unbends his elbow, with a small, pleased noise. It’s tender and it hurts a little, but it works.. He looks up from his arm and straight into LeFou’s eyes. Gaston’s heart skips beat at all the worry he sees in them.  
“How does it feel, Gaston?”  
Gaston smiles gently and it’s in this moment that he becomes aware that he hasn’t smiled as much as during the last few days since they came back from the war. “Fine.” And he slowly, carefully reaches out with is right hand and places his palm against LeFou’s slightly stubbly cheek and strokes his thumb over the soft skin beneath his eye. “Very fine, mon amour.” And then he bends over, while he uses his weak hand to tilt LeFou’s head a little and kisses him. The kiss is as slow and careful as Gaston has reached out before.  
He feels more than he hears when LeFou makes a small noise and then Gaston is seized, LeFou’s hands on the small of his back, and kissed as if there’s no tomorrow. Gaston is a little dizzy when they have to come up for air - and he looks down at LeFou? What?  
LeFou looks up at him and smiles, then Gaston’s pushed gently off of LeFou’s lap and back onto his chair, “let us wash your hair, as long the water’s still warm, mon Capitaine, huh?”  
He nods, still dazed and a little confused, then Gaston realizes that there’s no way for him to get into the tub by himself and he looks questioningly at LeFou who in return asks him: “Do you trust me?”  
Gaston thinks it’s one of the most stupid questions LeFou has ever asked him, but he nods and answers, “with my life, Fidélio.”  
  
  
***  
  
  
LeFou gives Gaston a smile, then get’s up and helps him out of his breeches and the leg splint, “don’t move your leg, Gaston!”Then he scoops Gaston up, one arm mainly under his healthy knee, lightly supporting the other with his hand, other arm around his back and places him in the tub. “There, now let me take care of you, mon Capitaine!” LeFou says and takes the opportunity to kiss Gaston’s temple and much to his delight Gaston lets out a small sigh. “You are too good to me, mon amour…”  
LeFou grins and reaches for the sponge and _purrs_ , “don’t I know it, Gaston!” He sits back down on the stool beside the bath and reaches for the same pitcher he used on his own hair, and advises, “Close your eyes, Gaston!”  
“Fidélio,” he leans closer, because Gaston’s voice is barely there. “Remember when we shaved our heads?”  
Of course he does, it was in their second year of enlistment. Gaston had just freshly been promoted, their squad was so far of off any kind of civilisation, there was no way to wash beside some stale pond. Of course the vermin had settled in comfortably on them, until the evening Gaston had lost his patience. “This is unacceptable! I won’t tolerate to be eaten alive! Pass me my shaving knife, Fidélio!”  
LeFou wasn’t sure if to cry or laugh at the memory now. But back then he _had_ cried as he watched Gaston shave his head. And as he couldn’t well let Gaston see, LeFou took the knife and shaved the rest of off Gaston. Once Gaston had been done, LeFou had wordlessly held out his hand and Gaston had passed the knife over after sharpening it again and let him do the first few strands, then took the razor back and shaved LeFou bald in turn.  
“I cried as I shaved your hair, Fidélio,”  
LeFou surfaces from the memory and stares down at Gaston’s head, his hands stilling, he hadn’t noticed back then. And now… “Don’t worry, _mon Capitaine_ , it helped in the end, didn’t it?” The rest of their squad had been bald within a week, as gloriously vermin free as them. They had gotten a collective reprimand as they came back to civilization. Not one of them had given a sou.  
LeFou rinses out the suds form Gaston’s hair, sliding his fingers through it, carefully untangling it. “I love your hair, _mon Capitaine_ .” I love you.

 

   
  
Sou: old currency of France

 


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fair warning: there's some drama happening!

LeFou’s preparing an early dinner when he hears the cart driving into the backyard. Stanley had left for Châtelaine the previous day, before LeFou had heated up the water for his and Gaston’s bath. He smiles as he remembers their evening; it has been pleasantly domestic, spent in the study, with Gaston dozing off over his accounts. The poor man was so tired after their morning spent on laundry and then, later, the bath. And so very, very pouty as LeFou insisted to put the splints back on. LeFou chuckles at the thought and is happy that Gaston caved in the end. The splints were both back in place before they sunk into bed, where they both promptly fell asleep. LeFou’s not very happy about that, although he has no reason to worry, because he’s determined to keep Gaston.   
There’s a knock on the door and LeFou wonders why Stanley keeps knocking, it’s not that the latch is closed when LeFou’s in the kitchen. “Come in, Stan!” He would open the door, but LeFou can’t leave the stove alone right now, or the ragout will burn and he’s loath to serve Gaston burned food. They both have had enough of that to last them a lifetime. “You are perfectly in time for dinner,” LeFou waits until the door’s closed, then adds, “Mademoiselle Constance!” The smile he gets from Stanley is blinding and the curtsey a perfect one. 

“Bonsoir Monsieur LeFou! I brought all the things you and the captain ordered.”   
LeFou marvels at how feminine Constance’s voice sounds. And he realizes that he just thought of her as a woman and not as a man. He’s a little confused, but shrugs it off. 

“Could you take care of the ragout? I will go and unload the cart, Constance!” And because his mind has finally worked it out, LeFou calls her by her feminine name again. He earns another soft smile from her as she steps closer to take the wooden spoon from him.   
“Thank you, LeFou.” She whispers as he turns away to get the groceries inside.   
  
He’s unloading a huge crate filled with vegetables from the cart when he hears Tom’s voice hollering from outside the gates. “LeFou! I heard you let the little molly have your home!”   
LeFou’s ire rises instantly and he reminds himself to take deep breaths, to wait for what more crap Tom will spew. He grips the crate so hard his knuckles turn white.   
Tom keeps going, even though he lowers his voice a little. LeFou would prefer he’d shut up completely, because he knows the kitchen window is open. “If I was you, I would’ve chased that little piece of filth out of town!”   
LeFou has had enough, he lets go of the crate with one hand and points straight at Tom. “Leave, or I come and make you. I’ll not have you insult my friends, Tom.” He sees Tom’s eyes go wide at the display of strength and LeFou takes a step towards him, just as Dick joins Tom at the gate and begins to spew abuse too.   
LeFou’s trembling by now he’s so angry. He’s considering to throw the crate at them as there’s a shot ringing out. LeFou doesn’t even flinch, he had to reign himself in so much.   
  
  
***   
  
  
Gaston sits on the bed when he hears the yelling outside. He knows Constance is back and if he hears the words as clearly up here, poor Constance must, too. He cannot, and will not, tolerate anyone yelling abuse at his friends. He mutters ”it’s hero time,” as he reaches for the blunderbuss and pulls it out from under the bed, and then limps to the window of the study which faces the backyard. He’s just in time to see LeFou struggling not to throw a crate at Tom and Dick. Gaston shoots into the air and yells, “get the hell of off my porch, or the next shot will hit point-blank!”   
He watches on with relief as the two men turn tails. It’s not that Gaston could reload the gun with just one hand in that short amount of time. But he seems to have scared them off sufficiently for the moment. He drops the gun where he stands, takes his crutch back up and limps down the stairs faster than advised. He finds Constance in the kitchen - and it’s obvious she’s Constance right now, even though Gaston can’t really place what makes it obvious to him - standing frozen in place at the stove, tears running down her face. He pushes the pot off the fire, using his crutch, then takes the spoon from her and finally drops the crutch once more to pull her against his chest.   
Gaston’s not used to consoling people and he really hopes it’s the right thing to do. Because he’s never cared much about anyone besides LeFou, but his friend always relishes hugs when he’s sad, so it’s worth a try.   
  
  
***   
  
  
LeFou stands in the backyard for a moment longer, crate hanging from one hand and gulping down deep breaths of air. Do not run after them, do not. They’re not worth it. He repeats it like a rosary in his head, and finally, slowly, calms enough to place the crate on the floor and go back inside.   
He finds Gaston in the kitchen, holding the quietly sobbing Constance against his chest. “Who do they think they are!” LeFou growls and reaches out to stroke Constance's back. “Don’t worry, we’re going to protect you, you’re family.” He lets his hand slide from Constance’s back to Gaston’s hand and gives it a little squeeze to prompt him to speak up too.   
“He’s right,” Gaston’s voice is gentle and soothing, “you’re family, sister dearest.”   
LeFou flinches as the words set off Constance even more and she’s now sobbing into Gaston’s biceps. “I… I…” she cries and LeFou slides his hand once more over her back. “It’s going to be fine, Constance.”    
“I… I… I’ll come with you to Paris!” She finally breathes out once she stopped crying.   
LeFou is so very relieved.   
Time to unload the cart and save their dinner.

 

 


	15. Chapter 15

LeFou all but giggles at Gaston’s rather loud moan as he rolls his hips. “Shh Gaston. We need to be silent!” He is very comfortable though, where he is, straddling Gaston’s narrow hips, looking down at him and trailing his hands over the firm pecs. LeFou has given in to taking Gaston’s splint off for a moment before they would sleep. And it has resulted in this. Both of them only in breeches and LeFou sitting astride Gaston.   
“We need to be silent and very carefull,  _ mon Capitaine _ !” He reminds Gaston while he leans down to lick his ear. Gaston beneath him grows harder - LeFou can feel it against his ass - and shakes his head, “told you I’m fine as long you’re not sitting on my leg,  _ mon amour _ !”   
He shivers at the roughness of Gaston’s voice, but LeFou reminds him anyway. “Don’t forget, we’ve a mademoiselle sleeping in the study.” And he instantly follows up with a row of nips along Gaston’s throat. Gaston arches his head into the pillow, offers up more of his skin and LeFou smirks. This is better than all his dreams and fantasies. He’s never dared to hope that Gaston would just let him take the lead in these encounters. LeFou is certain however that this will change too, once Gaston knows how. But right now, Gaston’s fingers are dancing over his back, short nails scratching softly and LeFou moans as he catches Gaston’s mouth in another kiss.   
LeFou blushes as they part and Gaston looks up at him with heavy lidded eyes and then whispers. “You’re the most wonderful thing ever, Fidélio.”   
“What,” he stares down at Gaston disbelievingly, but rolls his hips once more, almost out of instinct.   
“I said,” Gaston says, voice low and hoarse, arching up against him, “that you are the most wonderful thing I’ve ever seen, mon amour.”   
All LeFou can do is stare down at Gaston, hands now firmly planted on the man’s pecs once more. He doubts for a moment that Gaston really means it, but then remembers their talk from the other night and suddenly his eyes feel wet. He won’t cry, not now, but he’s so, so touched.   
  
  
***   
  
  
Gaston looks up at LeFou in the dim light of their bedroom and sees his eyes shimmer wetly, so he reaches up to cup his cheek, “don’t cry, Fidélio. Not now.” He’s just wanted to be nice, to be honest, to make LeFou smile, to make him feel as appreciated as he is. But apparently it was the wrong thing to say. So he slips his hand into LeFou’s hair and pulls him down to kiss him once more. Chest against chest, skin touching from waist up. This seems to be the right thing, because he feels LeFou melting against him and moving his hips again. Gaston tries to stifle his moan by shoving his tongue into LeFou’s mouth. It works until he runs out of breath and has to pull back. LeFou grinds against him and he lets out a too loud groan.   
He doesn’t really know where to put his hands because there’s so many places he wants to touch, so much supple flesh. He slides one down LeFou’s back until he reaches the hem of his breeches and then dips his fingertips beneath. LeFou above him stutters in his movements and stares down at him with huge eyes, and Gaston fears he’s gone too far. But then LeFou smirks and  _ grinds  _ his hips down, makes him moan once more.   
“Shhh,” he gets scolded, in a very low and dark voice, “be silent, or do I need to stuff your mouth, mon Capitaine?”   
Gaston shudders and squeezes LeFou’s buttock with his hand, teases right back, “is that a threat or a promise?” He’s hoping for both a little, he’s also enjoying this more than he ever has before. There has never been bantering, lewd promises; his other conquests - and isn’t he the conquest here - only ever wanted to be seduced and he’d do all the work.   
He let’s his head fall to the side, offering up his neck for bites and kisses once again.   
  
  
***   
  
  
LeFou’s eyes go dark at Gaston’s words. This is more than idle banter, this is tempting. He grinds down, feeling the hard contours of Gaston’s manhood slide against him and adjusts his position just so. Now the tantalizing bulge slides against his own and Gaston’s hand on his ass grips harder. LeFou plants his hands beside Gaston’s head and leans down to place his mouth once more to the man’s neck. He groans when Gaston arches up and returns the pressure on their groins. And LeFou so badly wants to feel Gaston’s silky hardness against his own, he reaches down with one hand and tries to fumble open the fastenings. He can’t do it fast enough to his liking, but then suddenly Gaston’s hand is there and  _ tears _ them open. LeFou bats Gaston’s hand away and they groan in unison - too loud once more - as he closes his fist around them both.    
LeFou let’s out a whimper as Gaston’s head flies around and his teeth slam into LeFou’s forearm, and he almost buckles. “Gaston!” He hisses into the man’s shoulder, it’s as much warning as it’s an encouragement. Gaston only bites harder and LeFou in turn squeezes their pricks almost painfully hard. He really wants to be gentle, but he’s losing his restraint as fast as Gaston. “Oh mon Dieu!” He pants it right into Gaston’s ear, his fist moving faster. “You drive me mad, you’re killing me,  _ mon Capitaine _ !” He only gets a stifled groan from Gaston, who has his eyes squeezed shut, face a mask of ecstasy, teeth still deep in LeFou’s arm. “ _ Mon Capitaine _ !” He moans and feels Gaston buck beneath him, into his hand, and his movements get slick and it’s all LeFou needs to join the muted groan of Gaston in his own peak.   
LeFou only barely manages to not topple onto Gaston, but there’s no way he can move right now and so he sinks slowly atop his chest while Gaston finally releases his bite.   
“This was,” Gaston breaths and LeFou turns his head so he can look at him, “extraordinary, mon amour.”   
LeFou pushes up just enough to place a kiss to the corner of Gaston’s mouth, “do you want me to move? Because I don’t think I’m able to, yet.”   
“No, it feels good to have you there, Fidélio.” LeFou’s so relieved to hear these words he lets out a sigh. Then he inspects the bite on his arm halfheartedly and chuckles. “If Constance hasn’t heard us, I swear all the bite marks will tip her off!”  
Gaston laughs silently and ruffles LeFou’s hair. “Sleep, mon amour.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear readers, updates will slow down a bit for a while because I'll be on holidays for a week!  
> Thanks for sticking with me, all the nice comments and your support!  
> Rose

 

_ It’s cold and it’s dark and it’s loud. Gravel spraying, musket and cannon shots and desperate cries, the moaning of dying horses. And LeFou stumbles to the trench closest to them, urging the younger soldiers on. They’re so young, too young to die! _ __  
_ He’s running by now, dodging a cannonball and is about to dive behind a defilade and then into the trench as he hears it. Or rather, does not hear it anymore, because Gaston’s booming voice, which till now had hurried them on - “Vite, vite, hurry up!” - is not there anymore. LeFou pivots around and out of cover, and for a gut wrenching second he  _ just doesn’t see Gaston _. But then his eyes fall on his Captain, cramped up on the wet soil. LeFou does not hesitate as he runs out of cover, but Gaston yells at him now, “no  _ you fool _ , stay there, leave me!” _   
_ It’s too late, he is already reaching for the leather of Gaston’s baldric and his fingers cramp up painfully as he drags him steadily into the trench. LeFou falls to his knees besides Gaston, panting, and checks his breath and heartbeat, then he wails. There’s none! “Gaston!  _ Mon Capitaine _!” He can’t move, cannot leave the love of his life here in a dirty trench. He turns and yells at the soldier who tries to pull him away from… _   
  
“Gaston!” LeFou awakes with tears streaming down his face, making it impossible to see anything at all in the pale moonlight. He’s still so caught up in his nightmare that all he can do is sob more and plead, “please... don’t be dead. Please do not be dead. Do not die on me. Don’t leave me…”   
He’s gathered against a wall of muscle and there’s a strong hand moving his head so LeFou’s ear is against a chest. He hears the strong heartbeat instantly, it’s loud and powerful, and it calms his frenzy a little.  And then the chest vibrates with Gaston’s dark, warm voice.   
  
  
***   
  
  
He is awoken by LeFou struggling atop him and his whimpers, Gaston’s injured leg gets a kick and the pain jolts him fully awake. LeFou’s having a nightmare and a bad one as it looks and feels. Gaston knows about the dreams even though LeFou never really spoke about them. And Gaston has never had to deal with them first hand, as for some reason, they usually don’t seem to plague LeFou when they're in the same room. He pulls LeFou close, trying to shake him awake, but succeeds only halfway. Because now LeFou’s begging him not to die. It wrenches at Gaston’s heart. He’s acting out of instinct as he presses LeFou’s head to his chest and then tries to console the shaking man.   
“I’m here, Fidélio. You saved me. You keep saving me. I am right here. Mon amour, mon bien-aimé. Mon bel ange…” Gaston’s sure he’s spewing only sweet nonsense by now, but it doesn’t make it less true. LeFou is his beautiful angel. LeFou, however, seems inconsolable and only buries closer into his chest, hands coming up, clutching his shoulders, tears wetting Gaston’s skin.   
Gaston’s momentarily distracted as the bedroom door is hesitantly pushed open, but he exchanges just a short look with Constance - never ceasing his string of reassuring words -  and she pulls the door closed again.   
“Gaston,” LeFou is now curled up on his lap and his hands are feeling up Gaston’s body as if to make sure he’s really, truly there with him.   
“I’m fine, mon amour. You saved me. Remember?” There’s a weak nod against chest and Gaston smiles, relieved, and adds, “and I am not about to leave you, Fidélio.” Another nod and one of LeFou’s hands slides into Gaston’s hair.   
  
  
***   
  
  
LeFou is finally calming and he realizes that he made a complete fool out of himself. It had only been a nightmare. A terrible one, sure. But really, he should not have overreacted like this. He feels himself relax even more as he pets Gaston’s soft hair. It’s so soft, like a kitten, and he buries his head a little more against the strong chest he leans on. The very last thing he expects is for Gaston to reach for his chin, to tilt LeFou’s head up and then kiss him, as snotty and tear soaked as he is.   
“I’m here,” he hears Gaston repeat against his mouth, “I will not leave, mon amour.”   
LeFou nods and then it sinks into him that he still sits atop Gaston and he slowly disentangles himself and slides off of him to his side. He’s so very thankful that Gaston instantly pulls him close again.   
“My apologies. Did I hurt you?” He knows he thrashes when he has nightmares, but Gaston merely shakes his head. “No, I am fine. How do  __ you  feel? Shall I fetch you some water?” The question is so absurd coming from the man with a leg and arm splint, LeFou shakes his head with a weak laugh. “Non merci, mon Capitaine. All I need is right here with me.” He leans his head atop Gaston’s chest once more, but mumbles after a moment. “Maybe a handkerchief?”   
He feels Gaston chuckle, followed by some movement until a handkerchief is dangled in front of his nose. “It’s even a clean one, chéri!”   
LeFou laughs a little at the endearment and rubs the handkerchief over his face. It’s only then that he comes aware that Gaston has used his right arm to fetch the Handkerchief, his left still around LeFou. “Your arm needs to go into a sling tomorrow, too much movement isn’t good yet!”   
  
The next time LeFou wakes up it’s because there’s sunlight streaming in through the window and Gaston is humming somewhere above his head while carding his fingers through LeFou’s hair. “Bonjour, did you sleep better now, my Fidélio?”   
He nods then offers, “shall I make us breakfast?”   
“I do believe Constance is already in the kitchen. She was worried about you too, about ready to whoop my ass I think, for hurting you or something.” Gaston’s voice is full of affection and laughter while he tells LeFou how Constance had even opened their bedroom door, but all LeFou registers is the “worried too”. It makes him feel all warm and happy.   
He rolls out of bed and dresses and all the while Gaston keeps staring at him. It makes LeFou blush. “Would you stop looking at me?”   
“But I do so like the view, you’re so handsome.” Gaston says from the bed looking at him like he usually looks at himself in a mirror.   
LeFou blushes more and giggles a bit, then puts on a serious face. “You’re not getting out of wearing a sling, you know, mon beau Capitaine!”   
Gaston gives him the most fake crestfallen look he ever saw.


	17. Chapter 17

 

He worries a lot today, mainly about Constance who’s preparing for another trip to Châtelaine. They’d brought LeFou’s old bed to Gaston’s house the day after Constance slept in the study and placed it in the dining room. LeFou feels more and more like the three of them prepare for the worst. He and Constance - who slipped back into her Stanley-persona for these trips - had brought over most of LeFou’s things too during the last seven days.   
LeFou helps to harness Galette, says goodbye after passing his musket to Constance and then goes to muck the stables. He watches, curiosity peaked, while Gaston limps out and stops Constance with a short shout, just as she wants to drive off, and then moves up to her. LeFou shuffles closer to the stable door and perks his ears. And then he melts. Because Gaston passes her a purse and when she asks what it is for, Gaston answers: “Get your fiancée a traveling dress. There’s a seamstress in Châtelaine, one of the very best. Constance deserves to arrive in Paris in no less than the best.”   
LeFou sees how Constance shakes her head and wants to give the purse back, but Gaston just crosses his arms over his chest - he’s dodged the sling way too early in LeFou’s opinion - and shakes his head, then declares. “I won’t take it back, off with you now! Be back for dinner tomorrow or we come looking for you!” Constance laughs and drives off.   
LeFou goes back to mucking out the stables, when there’s a noise behind him. It’s Gaston who enters and then looks at him questioningly. “Was that an alright thing to do, Fidélio?”   
He’s instantly touched at how unsure Gaston sounds and nods insistently, “a very good thing,  _ mon Capitaine. _ ” Gaston nods once, then hobbles to Magnifique’s side and begins to groom his horse, crutch firmly tucked under his arm. “I’d help you but you’d only scold me, LeFou!”   
LeFou laughs, “that’s right, I would!”   
They work in comfortable silence for a moment until LeFou speaks up again. “What about the tavern, Gaston?” LeFou asks, giving in to his curiosity, as he works around Gaston and Magnifique. None of them has brought it up till now, but LeFou is curious. Even though Gaston only acts as the landlord, it is his.   
“Sold,” Gaston hums and LeFou almost drops the pitchfork.   
“What?!” LeFou, to his embarrassment, squeaks.   
Gaston keeps brushing his horse in long, slow strokes. “Sold it. To Jean Jacques. He only has to sign the new letter I wrote him. We pick your money up when we leave for Paris. It’s on the way and we stay the night in Châtelaine.”   
LeFou blinks. “ _ My _ money, Gaston?”   
Gaston nods, “your money. You gave me your savings to buy it, didn’t you?”   
LeFou just keeps staring at Gaston, who shrugs. “It’s your money, we paid for the place together, I got most of the earnings since then and it is only fair to pay you out.” He places the brush down and pats Magnifique’s neck, then motions to the stable door. “Let us talk in the house!”   
  
  
***   
  
  
They sit at the table, Gaston’s leg resting in LeFou’s lap, and he feels like he should say something. He’s the one who wanted to go inside. It would help if LeFou would stop staring at him like he’d just grown a second head.   
“Fidélio, there’s more I need to tell you.” He takes a deep breath. “Seeing that I sold the tavern, I had to alter my will.” Gaston sees LeFou take a deep breath, his eyes going a little distant. “Not much changed, you still get the majority of my possessions, but I’ll have an adequate sum go to Constance.” He waits for some reaction and LeFou gives him a nod and slips a hand to Gaston’s foot to gently massage him.   
“There’s more, Gaston, isn’t there?”   
“Yes there is,” he nods solemnly, “I want to ‘adopt’ her, so she has a name to herself and the right to inherit.” LeFou’s fingers on his foot stop moving for a moment, then go back to work.   
“I’d like that,” LeFou smiles, “that’s a wise thought. You have to pass her off as your father’s illegitimate child…” now there's a little laugh which Gaston joins.   
“As far I know, she  _ could be _ . Father was  _ fond _ of her mother.”   
His father had been a bad man; and looking back, Gaston realises he’s behaved a lot like him for a while. He reaches out impulsively, offering his hand to LeFou. “I never wanted to become like him.” So what if his voice trembles a little. His mind is calmed the moment LeFou reaches out too and intertwines their fingers.   
“You’re better than him. So, so much better,  _ mon Capitaine _ .”   
Gaston gives LeFou a smile, “But you’re the best, LeFou!”   
“I know!” LeFou smiles and they both laugh.   
  
  
***   
  
  
LeFou watches Gaston undress from his place in Gaston’s chair. He wants to touch so badly. All they got to lately - with not being alone in the house - was some hushed fumbling. He longs for more, wants to see Gaston fall apart again. “Shall I help you with your breeches,  _ mon Capitaine _ ?”   
Gaston looks up from where he sits on their bed and gives him a come hither smirk, eyes full of fire, “yes please,  _ mon amour _ .”   
LeFou smirks right back and licks his lips as he gets up and kneels down in front of Gaston.   
He wants to enjoy this, to bask in Gaston’s pleasure, so he only slowly undresses him, once more covering every bit of flesh he reveals with kisses. Gaston above him lets out a small sound, a breathless gasp. Once all the barriers are gone, LeFou wants nothing more than to put his mouth all over Gaston.   
“Let me help you some more,” LeFou’s voice is dark and trembling as he reaches out to help Gaston lie down, placing the splinted leg safely in its mold of pillows. He stares down at the man hungrily, mouth watering and is about to lean in to finally give in to his yearning, as Gaston  _ pleads _ . “I need you undressed, I must see you!”    
Ah, this is why he refused to have LeFou douse the lamps.   
LeFou smirks and slowly gets up again and then begins to take off the few clothes he is still wearing. First the vest, button after button popping slowly and finally letting it fall to the floor, then pulls his shirt off. LeFou looks at Gaston, whose eyes are honed in on him, and licks his lips while he flips his hair back. He enjoys the way how Gaston swallows way too much. LeFou wants that mouth on him. So badly. He slides his hands down to his breeches - his socks have been off since they came into the bedroom - hooks his thumbs under the hem and pushes them down slowly, then bends to lift them off the floor and place them on the chair, allowing Gaston a perfect view of his ass.   
LeFou grins as he hears a groan from the bed and Gaston’s voice, rough and breathless. “LeFou, please…” 


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My beloved readers, I am sorry this update took me so long.  
> There updating in general will slow down a little. But I promise it shouldn't be as long a wait as this one!  
> Thank you for sticking with me!  
> Rose

 

 

“You’re a tease, mon amour!” Gaston complains playfully from the bed and LeFou laughs.  
“Am I? I guess I am.” He turns back to face Gaston and smiles, giving him his most innocent look. The one which tends to fool the villagers. LeFou takes one step closer to the bed and reaches up to pull out his hair tie - slowly, oh so slowly - and then tilts his head to the side. His hair falls over his shoulder in perfect waves and he bites his lower lip, still giving Gaston the look of the innocent. LeFou almost breaks the act as he sees how Gaston’s pupils dilate.   
He steps closer, moving deliberately, then gestures with one hand and orders in a soft velvet voice: “Spread your legs for me, _mon Capitaine_ .”   
Gaston frowns at this and LeFou sees how he swallows once, but then Gaston nods, “why?”   
Lefou smirks, licks his lips once more and answers in his most innocent voice. “I want to take you into my mouth and need some room.”   
He almost laughs when Gaston lets out a desperate moan and Gaston’s hand slides down to press his rising manhood down as he moves his healthy leg out of the way.   
LeFou walks to the foot of the bed, then bends to put his hands on it and crawls up between Gaston’s legs. He gives his lover a teasing smirk and looks at him with smoldering eyes. He’s always wanted to do that with Gaston, driving the man to the brink. “I’m going to make you feel so, so good, _mon Capitaine_ .”   
Gaston, above him, almost chokes on a moan when LeFou presses his mouth to his thigh, licking upwards. “Fidélio!” It’s dragged out and breathless and it makes LeFou’s hairs stand on end. He’d never expected to get such a reaction. He’s also never suspected Gaston to be so _responsive_ ; after all, he’d stood guard on some of the man’s “adventures”.   
“Oh _please_ ,” is the next thing coming out of Gaston’s mouth and LeFou feels fingers sliding into his hair as he places a small kiss to the already dripping manhood. “Please, please, please, mon amour!”   
LeFou turns his eyes up, can’t fathom that he has the great Gaston actually _begging_ , and licks a broad stripe from root to tip.   
  
  
***   
  
  
LeFou is a vision, a revelation, and he cannot look away. So Gaston swallows and tries to keep the breathless pleas inside. To be strong. He fails miserably, this teasing minx LeFou suddenly turned into is a force to be reckoned with. The words are tumbling from his mouth as soon as Fidélio’s lips touch his hot and hard flesh.   
“Please,” he breathes again, “je t’en prie, mon amour.”   
And then LeFou _licks_ again and Gaston gasps out another moan, all words gone.   
He arches almost off the mattress as LeFou _finally_ closes his mouth around him, not even sucking, just resting him on his tongue, and Gaston’s almost overwhelmed. It feels so good. He clenches his fingers into the silky strands of LeFou’s hair, trying not to pull. LeFou in turn groans and begins to suck. Gaston echoes the groan as the vibrations caress him. And as LeFou begins to move his head Gaston loses the faint remainder of restraint he still had and moans out loud. “Grâce de Dieu!” He’s burning up with the heat coiling around him, inside of him.   
  
  
***   
  
  
He feels powerful, more than a little. He, LeFou, is able to make Gaston lose all restraints. Just like this. He sucks a bit more, lowering his mouth just that one bit more, and feels Gaston hit the back of his throat. They groan in unison, Gaston trying not to buck up while Lefou tries not to choke.   
“God please!” Gaston moans once again and LeFou want’s nothing more than to just make him come, drink him down. And, with one last, hard suck, LeFou has Gaston buck and feels his mouth flood with come.   
LeFou slowly licks Gaston clean and then pulls off to look up at him. Their eyes meet, Gaston’s are clouded with desire and his voice is dark shivering velvet. “Come up here!”   
LeFou, rather far gone by now, crawls up along Gaston’s body and kisses him deeply.

Next thing LeFou knows is that Gaston’s manhandling him, pulling him up by hooking his hands behind his knees.  
“Gaston! What are you…”

“Reciprocating!” Is the clipped answer and LeFou reaches out to hold onto the headboard and helps to position himself.  
Gaston beneath him murmurs, “if I do this wrong, tell me. It is my first time after all.”

LeFou lets out a strangled moan as Gaston’s tongue slides over his hard and hot manhood right after these words. “I,” Gaston says and taps LeFou’s thigh, “fear you need to move, I am rather immobile. Try not to choke me too hard!” The filthy words have LeFou on the edge already, and it does not help that Gaston covers him in small licks while saying them.  
“Mon Dieu, _mon Capitaine_ !” He moans and pushes forward, earning a groan and an experimental suck. It is almost enough for him to spill already. LeFou reaches down and strokes Gaston’s cheek as an encouragement and the hunter sucks harder.   
LeFou just can’t hold on anymore and throws his head back with a loud groan and spills himself shakingly down Gaston’s throat.   
He clings desperately to the headboard and makes the mistake to look down. His manhood is still more than halfway vanishing between Gaston’s stretched lips, there’s a dribble of come leaking form the corner of the man’s mouth and LeFou shivers, his spent flesh giving a desperate twitch.   
He sees how Gaston’s mouth pulls into a smirk around the tender flesh in his mouth and then the man swallows again, sending up a cheeky wink at LeFou.   
LeFou pulls out and back with a slight tremor, then bends to lick the come away from the corner of Gaston’s mouth to kiss him gently. “You really seem to be good at most things, mon Capitaine.” And LeFou’s voice is still trembling and way too soft at the words, but he could not care less. Because, LeFou cares way too much about Gaston.   
  
  
  
je t’en prie: I beg you   
Grâce de Dieu: along the line of, “Good Gracious”, “Oh my God”


	19. Chapter 19

 

LeFou wakes up the next morning with Gaston’s head on his shoulder and the sun shining into his face. Which means they’re late. He sighs. It is too comfortable to just lie here and to listen to Gaston’s breathing. But then, Gaston will wake up shortly and…  
LeFou’s thoughts stop as a hand sneaks down his body, kneading his belly. “Gaston?”   
“Bonjour, mon amour!” Gaston’s voice slurs into LeFou’s ear and his breath tickles.   
LeFou giggles and reaches up to pet Gaston’s stubbly cheek. “Bonjour, mon Capitaine. Why are you petting me?”   
There’s a soft chuckle, “isn’t that obvious? I love to touch you. You’re warm and soft and beautifully perfect.”   
LeFou smiles at the words. At least Gaston appreciates his looks.   
“Since you came back from the ball,” Gaston sounds a little more awake now, “I want to keep my hands on you all the time, mon amour.”   
LeFou swallows and tilts his head up enough to kiss Gaston’s chin, his moustache catching in the stubble there.   
He feels Gaston’s chest vibrating in a chuckle, “and, I must say, I love the moustache!”   
LeFou chuckles and rubs their cheeks together, he loves this affectionate side of Gaston.  
He could spend all day in bed with Gaston, but there’s a whinny coming from the stables and he remembers that he needs to feed the horse and the chickens. With a groan he moves himself enough to kiss Gaston on the nose, then gets up. “I’m going to feed the animals, then make breakfast.”  
“Magnifique misses Galette as much as I miss you when you’re not around, Fidélio!” Gaston says while he sits up and stretches, and LeFou stares at him for a moment, then chuckles and watches as Gaston arches a questioning brow. “What?”   
LeFou leans back down after pulling a shirt on and kisses Gaston with love and passion. “Nothing, mon Capitaine, I’m just happy.”   
  
  
***   
  
  
Gaston looks at LeFou after their kiss and can’t get rid of the smile on his face. He makes LeFou happy. It makes him feel all warm in return.   
He finally offers, reaching for the crutch just as LeFou’s about to leave the bedroom, “you take care of the pets and I get started on the morning chores in the kitchen!” He should be able to get a fire going and water heated.   
Some time later it turns out he’s even able to make sourdough bread and put it into the oven before LeFou comes back in with the eggs. Gaston almost laughs at LeFou’s wide eyed look as he sees Gaston’s flour covered hands and then sniffs for the scent of baking bread.   
Gaston merely shrugs, “you’ve been out there awfully long. Are you well, LeFou?”   
LeFou nods a bit wistfully and Gaston’s instantly concerned, “what is it Fidélio?”   
“This is going to sound ridiculous. But, what about the chickens? I get that we take the horses with us,” Gaston stares at LeFou and dusts his hands off. “But what,” LeFou continues, “about the chickens? We can’t well sell them here. And I don’t think…”   
Gaston reaches out and cups LeFou’s face, then touches their foreheads together. Of course LeFou would worry about _chickens_ . “Oh Fidélio, you care so much, you’ve got the biggest heart I know.” Gaston presses a row of small kisses to LeFou’s brow between his next words, “we take them with us, the estate has a stable you remember? If we have to take chickens to Paris to make you happy, we will do so, mon amour.”   
He feels LeFou laughing more than he hears it, as LeFou brings him into a hug. “Thank you, Gaston.”   
Gaston just nods. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do for LeFou. And, weirdly enough, it’s this moment he realizes how much he loves Fidélio.   
  
  
***   
  
  
They sit at the kitchen table and eat the freshly baked, still warm bread Gaston made. And LeFou would feel so very happy if there wasn’t some worry niggling about Constance in the back of his head.   
“Can’t wait to leave Villeneuve behind…” LeFou only mutters, but Gaston seems to hear him anyway because he nods.   
“Yes, me too. We might be able to leave in one or two weeks. The men Monsieur Jean Jacques hired to move our things will come at the beginning of the next week if it all goes according to my plan.” LeFou looks up at this and watches Gaston with interest as he continues. “We will know that when Constance is back with the correspondence. I also sent word to René. He and I wrote back and forth over the years and he took care of the estate a little. He’ll be happy we’re back. René misses you too, Fidélio!”   
LeFou blinks and finally asks, “you wrote to René d'Herblay? Why didn’t you ever tell me?”   
He watches as Gaston looks down at the plate in front of him and then finally looks LeFou in the eyes. “I think we both know why I didn’t. I wasn’t much myself for the last few years, was I?”   
LeFou instantly regrets his question and impulsively reaches out over the table, only for Gaston to startle. They stare at each other wide eyed and LeFou realizes that Gaston honestly expected to be slapped. LeFou’s up and out of his chair in a blink and plops himself down in Gaston’s lap, making sure to only sit on his healthy leg, then throws his arms around his lover, holding Gaston’s head against his chest and petting his hair. “I’m not angry, mon Capitaine.” Gaston’s arms come up and around LeFou’s waist like a vice, but LeFou doesn’t mind.   
“Gaston, how’s René?” Distraction usually works to pull Gaston back from the ledge before he drops, so LeFou tries. Besides, he really wants to know how their childhood friend is. He remembers how often they played together and roughhoused. Well, until the day Gaston’s mother died and he, LeFou, wasn’t allowed to accompany Gaston to Paris anymore. He’d met René again while he and Gaston had been in the army. René d’Herblay had joined them two years after their enlistment - he was LeFou’s age, but enlisted later - as a captain of his own squad; most embarrassed about the fact that his family name had been the reason for his rank. LeFou remembers though that René had lived up to his rank and had gotten almost as many decorations as Gaston in the end. **  
** He is truly curious how their friend has fared.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for reading!  
> I love you all!

 

He’s just beginning to wonder if Gaston will ever answer; when he does.   
“René’s fine. He had a bad time there for a while.” Lefou keeps petting Gaston, but moves himself from Gaston’s lap up onto the table, slightly amused that Gaston keeps his arms firmly around him.   
“Why did he have a bad time, mon Capitaine?”   
“Remember little Amélie?” Gaston asks and LeFou nods.   
“René wanted to marry her, right?” LeFou twirls a strand of Gaston’s hair around his finger as he asks.   
Gaston nods, “well, they were promised to each other; and it was a strike of luck they were equally smitten…” LeFou rubs Gaston’s neck and smiles as Gaston buries his face into LeFou’s lap, but at Gaston’s next words his smile falls. “They did get married, but then she and their first child died in childbirth. It was then that I asked him to take care of father’s estate. I just wanted to have him distracted. Even invited him to come visit…”   
LeFou sighs, “he never came.”   
Gaston only nods and LeFou pets him a bit more insistently.   
“He didn’t. But he took care of our estate.”   
“ _ Our _ estate, Gaston?” LeFou asks, voice slightly wavering. It’s heartwarming how Gaston calls everything theirs lately.   
Gaston nods against LeFou’s tummy, “yes ours. It’s not that I’ll ever marry.”   
LeFou lets out a surprised gasp at these words and Gaston looks up, chin still firmly planted on top of LeFou’s thigh. “What? I told you I won’t ever leave you, not again, didn’t I?”   
LeFou nods because he can’t speak right now. There are tears shimmering in LeFou’s eyes as he slides his hands from the crown of Gaston’s head to the man’s cheek and cups it, tilts his head up and then bends to kiss him gently. LeFou can’t say the words yet, but he knows he loves Gaston more than anything.   
  
  
***   
  
  
Later, noon is just over and LeFou’s doing some work outside, Gaston is packing his books, when realizes that he really won’t miss the simple and easy life in Villeneuve. True, he has to pick up his father’s duties if they want to live in Paris. But he can do the whole noblesse stint, he knows it - his father beat it into him. At least Gaston won't need to find another secretary, now that LeFou can read and write. He’s so very glad, because it gives them certain perks. No one, for once, will question them about their living arrangements, because it  _ is _ customary for the secretary to live in the same house as his employer. And - Gaston thinks while he packs his books - his father’s secretary had occupied the room right adjacent to the master bedroom. If he isn’t mistaken, there’s even a connecting door. He drifts off for a moment, thinking of how easy it will be for them to sleep in the same room, then comes back the the here and now. They’ll need a maid for Constance. Someone needs to help her into her clothes, even though she might handle the day to day ones herself, but ballgowns are another thing. And neither he nor LeFou can do it, because it would just add fuel to the fire of gossip if they had no maid and no servants altogether.   
Gaston picks one more book and puts it into the chest, then turns away and reaches for his crutch. He needs to talk to LeFou about the servants.   
He makes it out into the garden, only to stop dead in his tracks, because LeFou’s brought out Magnifique and is currently inspecting the horse’s hooves - and Gaston blatantly stares at him.   
He doesn’t really understand how he was able to not give in the very first time he had this  _ want _ , this all-consuming longing for his Fidélio. But back at the time he’d been too wrapped up in war and killing, and he had known that LeFou deserved better. LeFou still did.   
But apparently Fidélio had chosen him, Gaston. He swears right then and there to do his utmost to never let LeFou regret his choice.   
  
  
***   
  
  
LeFou feels Gaston staring at him, the hairs on his neck bristling, so he turns around to face him and say something. But he get’s distracted by Magnifique, who lets out a very loud and excited neigh. LeFou looks back at the horse and sees how Magnifique perks his ears, head up high and nostrils flared - and then he hears an answering whinny no less excited.   
LeFou laughs and turns to face Gaston, “I think Stan’s coming home!” And it feels weird to call Constance  _ that _ , but they’re outside and everything else would be too dangerous.

LeFou watches as Gaston nods and limps over to him and the horse and then places his hand on Magnifiques neck and murmurs. “Shhh shhh, your sweet Galette will be here any moment, I know you miss him…”   
  
LeFou moves to the gate and glowers instantly as he sees a few spectators. They scatter as he makes an unmistakable move for his gun. He’s glad he put it into his belt before he left the house to take care of Magnifique - secretly he’d only wanted to wait for Constance, sick with worry because of Dick and Tom.   
Soon the cart rumbles down the street and LeFou pushes open the gate so Constance doesn’t have to stop. She thanks him with a weary smile and stops Galette inside the courtyard where the horse is greeted by a snuffling Magnifique, while LeFou makes sure to close and bolt the gate again.   
He moves towards the cart and begins to take care of Galette after greeting Constance properly. LeFou sees how Constance passes a bundle of letters to Gaston and his curiosity is piqued, but he’ll ask later. Right now, there’s a cart to unload.   
  
Once all is where it has to go, LeFou enters the kitchen and does a double take. No, he is not imagining things. Gaston  _ and _ Constance are standing side by side and one of them is peeling vegetables - remarkably it’s Gaston - while the other’s dicing them up to put them into the already cooking grain.   
LeFou smiles and steps up to them, peering over Gaston’s shoulder, tiptoeing to do so. “Looks good,  _ mon Capitaine _ .”   
As Gaston turns his head and presses a short kiss to his cheek, LeFou blushes up to the roots of his hair.   
“Thank you for unloading the cart, LeFou.”  
  
  
  
  



	21. Chapter 21

LeFou’s still curious about the letters and so he follows Gaston up to his study after everything is bolted down for the night. The door is open and so he steps in, smiling at the sight of Gaston and Constance each sitting on one side of the desk, Gaston reading the correspondence - leg propped back up on the chess table - and Constance drawing letters. LeFou steps up behind Gaston and places his hands on his lover’s shoulders, kneading carefully. He does not expect Gaston to tilt his head backwards and look up at him, and so LeFou’s reaction is more instinctive than anything else when he bends down to press his lips to the tip of Gaston’s nose. They both pull apart startled at the giggle coming from the other side of the desk. “Oh my, never thought I’d say that, but you’re adorable!” And Constance dissolves into another burst of giggles.   
LeFou shares a look with Gaston and they both smile, then shrug.   
“Gaston, what do the letters say?”   
“Ah,” Gaston looks back down at the little stack, “there’s good news, better news and the best news. Which one would you prefer to know first? Or would you like to read them yourself?”   
LeFou frowns at that and picks up the topmost letter only to squint at it, “it’s too small, I can barely make out the letters!” He doesn’t see how Gaston’s eyes widen in surprise, but he certainly feels Gaston closing his fingers around his wrist and pulling it to his lips to press a kiss there.   
“You, Fidélio, need spectacles. That might actually be the reason you weren’t able to learn to read in school?” Gaston makes a humming noise and nods. “Because, you learned awfully fast when we sat down together.”   
LeFou blinks at the letter in his hand a few times, then places it back on he desk and steps up to the table to lean against it. Now that Gaston mentions it… close things, small things, everything had always looked slightly off.   
  
  
***   
  
  
Gaston picks the letter back up and smiles, “this is the good news! Which is that the movers will come next week Thursday. Means we need to buy eggs as we send the chickens off then. The letter also had the finished papers for the sale of the tavern.” He takes a breath and places this letter down and picks up the next. “This one is the even better news and it comes straight from René…” he takes a moment to smile up at LeFou. “He writes that Gabriel is still in charge of the household and the few remaining servants!” Gaston watches as the information sinks in and then LeFou does a little whoop.   
“We can stop worrying about being framed by the servants then! If  _ he _ handpicked them!”   
Gaston nods while LeFou explains to Constance, “he’s always treated us kindly as children and when we went there after the war.” Gaston holds his hand out and LeFou takes it, rubbing circles into the back of it.   
“We did go there before we came here,” Gaston says and smiles, “I caught Gabriel kissing the cook. The male cook.”   
Gaston watches as Constance seems to comprehend then gives her a smirk, “all we need now is a maid for you…” he shrugs. “We’ll find one, no worries, dear sister!”   
Gaston puts this letter down, too, and picks up the last one. He smiles brightly at Constance, placing some papers down in front of her. “And this here, contains the best news! These are the papers for you to sign, Constance! These are adoption papers, make you a true Grosse.” Gaston gives her a hopeful look, “all you have to do is sign here!” He knows she can write her name, he taught her together with LeFou. She’s also able to read, though not as well as Fidélio yet. So Gaston waits more or less patiently for her to sign, while Constance just keeps staring at the papers and him in turn.   
She looks so stunned, he almost feels bad.   
  
  
***   
  
  
LeFou almost chuckles as Constance slowly, very slowly and slightly trembling reaches for the quill and then places the nib on the papers and signs. LeFou smiles, but the smile drops as soon he sees the tears on her face. But she merely sniffles, “thank you, brother dearest.”   
LeFou allows the smile to bloom and teases, “one more Grosse, just what I needed.”   
They both, Constance and Gaston look at him the same moment and with the same frown.   
“ _ LeFou _ !”   
He stares then begins to laugh. “Oh my, you  _ are _ siblings! I can see it! Paris had better get ready for us!”   
Gaston nods. “You’re right, they’d better prepare. The first ball we give must be  _ something else _ . If I need to follow in my father’s footsteps, I want to be better. So you both better think of a theme, beside introducing us back into the elite.”   
LeFou stares at Gaston. He has not expected for him to drop that on them and he’s about to say so as Gaston continues.   
“Fidélio, you’re going to be my secretary, if you please. Your rooms will be right beside mine, Constance, you’ll get mother’s rooms in the east wing. If someone asks where you come from, that you turned up so suddenly; my father was a little too fond of your mother. They will think it makes me look good, taking you in. I want you to be aware, though, that I don’t care for their opinion. I like you. You’re family to me.” LeFou watches Gaston take a deep breath and then squeezes his hand, looking deep into the man’s eyes with a small smile.   
“I’d like to be your secretary, mon Capitaine.”   
Constance’s breathless voice has them tear their eyes off each other.   
“There is more than one wing? There will be balls? Who the hell are you, Gaston Grosse?”  
  
  
  
  



	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear readers, I can't even say how much your comments mean to me.  
> *throws love at you all*

LeFou pushes himself up to one elbow and looks down at Gaston’s sleeping form. The man still hasn’t answered Constance’s question a week later.   
_ Who the hell are you? _   
Well, LeFou knows. He could’ve answered, but in the end it is Gaston’s responsibility to tell Constance who her brother is. Who and what that makes her. He laughs silently and shakes his head. He guesses they will take Gaston’s official coach to Paris, and as far as he knows it still looks the same. And it should be stationed at Châtelaine by now, considering that Gaston decided they’d leave on the same day the movers do.   
  
LeFou thinks it’s too soon for Gaston to undertake such a long journey with his still injured leg. At least they will stay at Châthelaine overnight, Constance has to get her dress and Stanley has to stay there.   
Or die on the way to Paris.   
But what LeFou looks forward to right now is that, as soon as Constance sees the coach, the coat of arms on its sides, Gaston has to tell her. Because their coat of arms is known around here. Well, was. The castle doesn’t seem to have been the only thing the villagers had forgotten. Not that Gaston has ever  _ tried _ to remind the people of Villeneuve of his heritage, his peerage.   
Gaston’s never really been proud of it. To him, the military rank he worked himself up to has always meant much more. This was the reason he struck the deal of  _ playing  _ the glorified gamekeeper - moving into his mother’s small summer house - instead of taking over the administration in his very name, when the prince in charge of the principality around Villeneuve suddenly disappeared. Considering the prince is back now, it’s hardly Gaston’s business anymore if everything in Villeneuve works as the State wishes it to.   
  
LeFou suddenly remembers that he wanted to wake up Gaston, so they could eat breakfast and then get the last remnants of their old life packed up. He smiles and bends down, kissing Gaston’s nose and then the almost invisible scar in his hair. Gaston’s hair is growing in nicely again, thick and soft and all LeFou want’s to do is bury his face into the dark locks. Still, he hesitates, because once he starts, he’ll not be able to stop at just that.   
  
  
***   
  
  
Gaston wakes up to the soft sensation of LeFou’s lips pressing kisses into the sensitive spot behind his ear, his mustache tickling, and Gaston makes a happy, sleepy noise. The kisses stop for a moment, then trail up to his brow and Gaston tilts his head back and blinks slowly up at LeFou.   
“Bonjour,Gaston,  _ mon Capitaine _ …” LeFou’s voice is rough and soft, and all Gaston wants to hear for the rest of his life.   
Gaston forces himself more awake, there’s a busy day ahead. And he wants to give LeFou his gift. The thing he found while he cleaned out his desk. Gaston was astounded to find there was still something left in the secret compartment. Only he and his mother knew it even exists. Though as soon as he held his find in his hand, he knew what to do with it.   
And just like this he’s wide awake and reaches up to pull LeFou into a heated kiss.   
LeFou lets out a surprised gasp and Gaston takes the opportunity to lick into his mouth, before he pulls back and purrs, “bonjour, mon amour.”   
Gaston grins at his dazed lover as innocently as possible and pulls him close again - only to be playfully pushed away. “Ah, Fidélio, why?”   
“We need to get up, there’s a long day ahead!” To Gaston’s ears, LeFou doesn’t sound as if he wants to get up at all.   
“But,” Gaston whines, “this is one of the last opportunities for us to be  _ together _ before we reach Paris!” And Gaston blushes, because yes, he’s not used to feeling so  _ needy _ . “I mean, we can’t really share a bed on the journey. Not when we travel as who we are,  _ mon amour _ !” Not to mention they will have to pay attention to how and when they touch. Or kiss. He’ll miss kisses.   
Gaston heaves a sigh, rubs LeFou’s neck and admits. “I don’t want to go back to stealing small touches, to pay attention how we sound and look to onlookers. It’s no secret that we’re the closests friends, but…” Gaston stops himself, uncomfortable and unused as he is to talking about his feelings.   
Gaston almosts sighs when LeFou leans in, kisses him and sinks them back down into the sheets. “Neither do I,  _ mon Capitaine _ .”   
  
  
***   
  
  
Constance arches a brow at them as they come down to the kitchen, and LeFou has the decency to blush as he hastily walks over to set the table. He almost laughs when Gaston greets her with a grumbly, “morning, sister dear! We’ve overslept.”   
LeFou pulls out a chair for Gaston and then the one stool with the pillow for Gaston’s leg, lifting the leg up there once Gaston sits.   
“Thank you LeFou.” Gaston smiles at him and LeFou smiles right back, then moves to help Constance. Both he and Constance freeze when Gaston casually asks, “did you order your dress, Constance?”   
LeFou looks over at Constance who’s still wearing Stanley’s clothes, and tries to picture her in a dress. He only realizes he must be staring at her when she blushes and uncomfortably looks to the side, away from LeFou.   
“Oui, mon frèrot,” Constance finally finds her words and once more LeFou is astounded how womanly she sounds. Nothing timid there, or dainty; soft yes, warm too, but there’s a cheeky ring to it, full of mischief. LeFou smiles, Constance reminds him a lot of Gaston’s mother. How she used to be as long her husband stayed far away.   
LeFou watches as Gaston prompts her to continue with a wave of his hand, and finally grins as she launches into a painstakingly detailed description of the fabric - pale peach and rose hues with flowers -  and the cut of the dress. LeFou thinks the dress sounds an awful lot like a rose garden made to wear. But then, ladies in Paris and in the circles they’ll move in tend to be dressed opulently, so a flower garden may not be wrong.   
LeFou finishes brewing their coffee - a luxury, really, but Gaston decided it would only go bad if they didn’t use it, and they could get more in Paris whenever they pleased - and turns around only to catch a desperate look from Gaston. It’s one of these looks he only uses when he needs LeFou to save him, and LeFou knows it. But today LeFou only makes sure Constance doesn’t see him and pokes his tongue out, accompanied by a small shrug and a smirk. He chuckles as Gaston’s shoulders sink a bit, and then begins to hum to tune out the rambling about dresses.   
  


 

 


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your awesome comments!  
> can't tell you all how much they mean to me. ^.^

  
LeFou leans a bit closer to Gaston, who sits beside him - injured leg weirdly propped up onto the pillow LeFou insisted on placing onto the footrest of the carriage. Lefou is trying to steal some closeness while he drives them to Châtelaine. “So, we stay overnight at the lodge, mon Capitaine?”   
Gaston must be hurting, because his voice sounds a little strained to LeFou’s ears when he answers. “Oui, unless you’d like to stay at the inn? I just figured it’s easier for Constance to sneak in, we can’t arrive as three men, can we?”   
LeFou sends a short look over at Constance, who rides Galette as the back seat is occupied by their travel packs. LeFou nods, yes, of course Gaston’s right.   
He catches a look from Constance and arches a questioning brow, because it’s a rather melancholic look she gives him.   
  
“Riding,” she leans forward and pats Galette’s neck. “I’ll miss it, because I don’t think I’ll be able to ride with a sidesaddle.” She pauses, takes a deep breath then adds, “and hunting will be out of the question, won’t it?”   
  
He wants to answer with something uplifting, when Gaston beside him startles them all with a loud laugh. “Oh mon Dieu, you’re a Grosse, we do mostly what we want! And no one will ever dare to speak up if I take you on hunts on your horse with a perfectly normal saddle! And yes,” LeFou watches as Gaston takes a deep breath, getting serious. “And yes, I’ll buy you a horse of your own as soon as I can!”   
  
LeFou watches as Constance stares at Gaston, then shakes her head. They’re not speaking much after this, but LeFou hears how Gaston begins to hum an old war-song. He’s instantly worried, because Gaston only sings war-songs when he’s in pain. He uses them to distract himself.   
LeFou told him it is too soon to travel, and also, this little carriage is not really adaptable to Gaston’s needs right now. But the coach will be better. LeFou’s a tad bit excited to drive that thing again. He barely remembers the last time he had four horses at his command.   
  
  
***   
  
  
Gaston stops humming and looks up once they reach the crossroad where they’ll separate, and watches Constance dismount and then tie Galette to the carriage. LeFou passes her the small bundle of food he has prepared and Gaston beckons her to him, then wordlessly hands her his flintlock. She stares at him in awe for a moment, then sticks it into her belt.    
Gaston impulsively reaches out, cupping her cheek.   
“Take care sœurette, if you’re not with us one hour after dark, I’ll come looking…” he smirks. “Don’t make me hobble through the forest, I’d not appreciate it!” He hears LeFou chuckle behind himself and bumps him with his elbow. “Oh shut up you, I’d do the same for you.”   
He lets out a theatrical, pouty huff as LeFou laughs out loud and declares, “you’re not going to hobble anywhere as long as I’ve got a say in it, mon Capitaine.”   
Now Constance laughs, too, and Gaston shakes his head, then takes the reins from LeFou and has the horse walk on.   
“One hour after sunset! Do not be late!” He calls over his shoulder, then passes the reins back to LeFou, muttering, “not even you will stop me if she’s late.” Gaston’s very relieved when LeFou just answers, “I know, but I’m coming with you, Gaston.”   
  
They reach Châtelaine not an hour later and Gaston insists that their first way lead them to the seamstress, so they can pick up Constance’s dress before they drive on to the lodge. They stop right in front of the seamstress's shop and Gaston sends LeFou in to get her.   
They come out, LeFou almost hidden behind a huge linen package, and Gaston grins. He exchanges a few words with the woman and then some money, while LeFou lifts the package onto the carriage.   
“I added a pair of shoes, I hope I guessed the size right!” The seamstress calls after them as LeFou drives the cart off, and Gaston hollers a word of gratitude back.   
The next stop is Monsieur Jean Jacques’ house. Gaston’s a bit embarrassed when LeFou has to help him off the carriage, but in the end he doesn’t care much, because he can steal a sneaky hug while LeFou more or less lift’s him down.   
They leave with much more money in their pockets than they came with, and full bellies as the lady of the house insisted on serving them a “late lunch, early dinner.”   
They reach the small hunting lodge on the other side of Châtelaine a good two hours before sunset. Gaston’s utterly exhausted and groans as LeFou lifts him - not just helping him, truly lifting him down this time - off the carriage, Gaston’s arms around LeFou’s neck. “I’m dead, Fidélio, mon amour!”   
  
“No! You’re not!” And LeFou sounds so upset that Gaston’s immediately alert. He realizes what he’s said and nuzzles the side of LeFou’s neck in apology. “No, just tired. Put me on my feet and give me the crutch, one of us must unload the cart and take care of the horses! We will be picked up in the townsquare tomorrow morning.”   
  
  
***   
  
  
LeFou comes into the lodge after he’s taken care of the horses and looks around. There’s no sight of Gaston in the main room, so only the bedroom’s left.   
He wonders what Gaston’s doing in there, if he really is tired enough to just lie down and rest. LeFou doubts it. When he’s set his mind to something, Gaston usually keeps going until he keels over. And apparently the huge package they picked up at the seamstress was important enough to be carried into the bedroom by LeFou before taking care of anything else. LeFou’s curiosity wells up again and he knocks on the door jamb and then pushes the door open, only to stop dead in his tracks.   
“ _ Gaston _ !” He stares at the mess of pink, peach, taffeta, linen, and his captain, who sits on the floor in the middle of it all and smirks devilishly. “Gaston,” LeFou tries again, much calmer, and gestures towards the dresses, shoes and -  _ underclothes _ ? “Gaston,” he finally manages, “what is this?”   
Gaston smirks that smile which makes LeFou’s knees weak and answers with a deep chuckle, “Constance’s new wardrobe. Did you think I’d drag her to Paris with just a travel dress at hand?”   
LeFou shakes his head with a laugh and swoops down to kiss Gaston hard and long, lowering him backwards to the floor. At the first moan LeFou wants to pull back to see if he’s harmed Gaston’s leg once more, but his lover’s hand is in his hair and holds him firmly in place. “Mon amour, we don’t have much time, please hurry up!” Gaston’s voice is dark and pleading and it’s enough to make LeFou’s hand travel lower.   
They both moan as they finally get their hands around their manhoods, and LeFou swallows  Gaston’s following groan in the same kiss he uses to stifle his own, while he moves their hands hard and fast. It’s messy and carnal when they come not much later. Well, Gaston wanted fast, didn’t he? LeFou pants out a breathy laugh and covers Gaston’s face with messy kisses, only to catch Gaston whisper, “I needed this. I need you, Fidélio.”

 

 


	24. Chapter 24

  
LeFou helps Gaston to sort out the mess of clothing and then closes the curtains before he ignites the fireplace and all the lights in the main room of the lodge.  
Right now he’s watching the sun go down while he hangs a pot of water in front of the fire. A small snore has LeFou turn to where Gaston sits on the chaise lounge, leg propped up. And obviously deeply asleep.  
LeFou wonders if he should wake Gaston as soon as the sun’s down, but he doesn’t have to. Because as the last ray of sunlight vanishes from the window, Gaston’s snoring stops abruptly and his eyes fly open. He is looking straight at LeFou as he pulls out his watch.  
“One hour.”  
LeFou stares, then shakes his head and mutters, “this will never not be _weird_ , how do you do this, Gaston?” He watches Gaston’s head tilt and gets a small shrug in answer.  
  
“I don’t know, might just be exceptionally good at waking up?”  
  
LeFou giggles and shakes his head again. “No, not when you’re off duty, or have no reason to be awake. Then you’re terribly hard to wake up, mon Capitaine!”  
He watches the grin spread on Gaston’s face and LeFou’s heart beats a bit faster.  
  
“But...” Gaston lets his pocket watch swing from his finger like a pendulum.  
LeFou’s eyes follow it for a moment until he reaches out and snatches the watch from Gaston and LeFou earns himself an amused look when he growls.  
“Stop that! You were about to say?”  
LeFou looks at the face of the watch and takes a mental note of the time. Should Constance not be on time, they _would_ go and look for her.  
  
“I was about to say,” Gaston winks at him and LeFou all but swoons. “I don’t want to _get up_ , but I like to be very much _awake_ when you share my bed, mon amour!” LeFou gets a little light-headed at these words and gives Gaston a dazzling smile as he walks over to him and sits down between his legs. He pockets Gaston’s watch together with his own and then lets out a surprised sigh, because Gaston’s hands are suddenly on his shoulders, kneading gently.  
“Oh oui, mon Capitaine!”  
  
  
***  
  
  
Gaston keeps up the massage for a while, trails his hands over LeFou’s shoulders, neck, down his arms. It’s gloriously distracting and his mind stops making up worst case scenarios for a moment. Constance lost in the wood - impossible, she would not get lost, she’s too good a hunter. Constance ambushed by thugs - not entirely impossible, but these poor thugs, Constance knows how to handle her own. Constance stumbling over a root and breaking her leg…  
Gaston has already admitted that he worries about Constance. He’s even admitted that he _cares_ about her. Which is very new, Gaston Grosse does not care about most people other than LeFou and himself. But, apparently, Constance has wormed her way into this exclusive circle exceptionally fast. Because Gaston’s ready to raise hell for her.  
She’s his little sister now.  
He leans forward and buries his face impulsively into LeFou’s fluffy hair - Gaston must’ve pulled out the ribbon at some point - and inhales deeply, letting the familiar scent of his lover calm him. Gaston pulls back as he feels LeFou move after a while, but all LeFou does is turn around to enclose him in an embrace and Gaston drops his forehead against LeFou’s shoulder.  
“She’s got another fifteen minutes,” Gaston mumbles into LeFou’s shoulder, “before we get up and out.” He feels LeFou pulling out one of the watches, then hears a gasp.  
  
“Gaston, _how_ do you do this?”  
  
Gaston knows there are exactly twenty minutes left of the hour, but he likes how astounded LeFou is. Gaston’s answer to the question is a shrug. He still does not know how to explain himself without making LeFou sad. Because, the reason he’s so good at waking up on time and guessing a time span, is that in his childhood it was necessary in order to avoid getting beaten bloody once more.  
So instead of an answer, he pulls the locket he found in his mother's desk out of his pocket and places it wordlessly around LeFou’s neck.  
  
  
***  
  
  
LeFou shivers as something sleek and cold slides around his neck, Gaston’s fingers close a clasp and then vanish and LeFou feels his lover finally pull away from his shoulder, explaining. “The locket belonged to Maman. I’d be honored if you would wear it, Fidélio, _mon amour_ .”  
  
LeFou reaches for the pendant, opens it and is immediately overtaken by memories of Gaston’s and his childhood. There’s a miniature portrait of a tiny Gaston smiling up at him from one side and a lock of soft, dark hair on the other side. He remembers how much Gaston had complained about having to sit still for so long. And in the the best hours of the day on top. But, Gaston had always added, after another tirade, “it’s for Maman.” LeFou, back then, had smiled and patted his best friend's leg or shoulder.  
LeFou, now, closes the locket and slides it underneath his clothes, then reaches to cup Gaston’s face and kisses him gently, tries to pour all his feelings into it. He smiles as he pulls back and breathes, “the honor is mine, _mon Capitaine_ .”  
He earns a smile from Gaston but then is pushed away a little, “LeFou, we need to get ready, she only has ten minutes left.”  
LeFou gives Gaston a disbelieving look. “I will not let you go out there until she’s ten minutes _late_ ,” he would prefer to not let Gaston out at all, but he also knows there will be no stopping him. “You know that ladies tend to be fashionably late!” LeFou traces the unhappy line between Gaston’s eyes with his finger. “I promise, I’ll let you go out there if she’s not here by then, mon Capitaine. And I’ll be right by your side, Gaston.”  
LeFou receives a small nod and a forced smile. “As you say, Fidélio, let us be patient.”  
They sit in silence after that, Gaston’s splinted leg propped up on LeFou’s lap and LeFou ignores the contraption digging into his thighs. Instead, he rubs Gaston’s lower leg, trying to distract his lover as much he’s able to. But the muscle under his fingers is almost trembling with pent up energy. LeFou doesn’t look forward to the first few days after removing the splint for good.  
The minutes tick down slowly and LeFou looks towards the door, fingers gripping Gaston’s leg a bit harder. He feels the exact moment Gaston readies himself to get up and LeFou himself is slightly worried, too. They share a look.  
And right the moment they want to get up there’s a knock on the door. LeFou bolts up and to the door to pull it open.  
  
  


SO I got a this wonderful [comment](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10560370/comments/120007293) and [Miss_Von_Cheese](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Von_Cheese/pseuds/Miss_Von_Cheese) allowed me to put the picture here!  
Thank you so so much! <3  
  



	25. Chapter 25

LeFou pulls the door open and lets out a relieved sigh when Constance brushes past him and brusquely walks into the middle of the room. LeFou closes the door and bolts it, then turns to face her. She looks like she’s taken a dive into the underwood.  
Constance meanwhile curses under her breath and plucks what suspiciously looks like burrs and bristlegrass out of her disheveled hair. After a moment she sighs deeply, then throws her hands up and hisses. “Je déteste les sangliers!”  
LeFou has to bite back an amused chuckle as Gaston, hobbling over to her, declares, “I promise our next hunt will be a boar hunt. I even let you take down the biggest one. Would that make you feel better, sœurette?”  
Constance nods and shakes her hair out when she turns towards LeFou and Gaston, a blush high on her cheeks. “My apologies. Bonsoir, Messieurs! Forgive me, I am late. There were some unforeseen occurrences…”  
  
“Boars?” LeFou deadpans against his better judgement and then chuckles. He ducks a bit under the scathing look Constance shoots his way, but Gaston saves him from a reprimand.  
  
“Constance, dear,” Gaston sits back down on the chaiselongue, props his leg up, then motions to a footstool. “Dear sœurette, get that stool and sit down here. LeFou, mon amour, fetch my brush, if you please!”  
  
LeFou hurries over to their packs, pulls out Gaston’s brush and tosses it over to Gaston, while Constance takes off her jacket and vest and sits down on the footstool. LeFou watches with a smile as Gaston undoes the last few strands of Constance’s hair still restrained in what was once her intricate hairdo and then begins to carefully brush out knots and dirt.  
Meanwhile, LeFou busies himself with preparing them a light dinner of cheese and bread, humming along to a song in his head. He smiles when Gaston’s joins with words and even more so when suddenly Constance’s voice sounds out loud and clear.  
  
  
***  
  
  
Gaston drags the brush carefully through Constance’s hair for a last time, then lets the last line of the song fade away, holding the note a little too long to impress LeFou.  
  
“I think our LeFou has prepared us a fine dinner, we should eat and then retire for the night.” Gaston says and gently pushes Constance off of the footstool so he can place his leg on it to free the space beside him for his lover. He watches as Constance slides a hand through her now tangle free and silky hair, and how she does a little spin, giggling.  
  
“Merci bien, frérot!”  
  
Gaston laughs and shakes his head, “it was nothing, sœurette!” He chucks the brush towards his pack and it lands right atop it. Well, he is the best, isn’t he?  
“Oh, I forgot, your dress is in the bedroom! Have a look?” Gaston gives LeFou a wink and gets up.  
Constance picks up a lamp, walks over to the only bedroom and pulls the door open.  
Gaston and LeFou exchange a look when they both hear a loud squeal and then Constance comes dashing out and throws herself at Gaston - just barely avoiding toppling him over.

“You’re too good to me. This is entirely too much, Gaston!” She exclaims while she kisses his cheek.  
Gaston laughs and holds her with his free arm, the other clutching the crutch, and explains. “Couldn’t have my dearest sister without a complete attire, could I?”  
Constance shakes her head, then nods, only to shake it again and finally lets go of him to take a step back. “Thank you, thank you so much!”  
  
Gaston in turn rubs his neck and smiles, blush high on his cheeks. “It’s alright, Constance. It’s quite alright!” He sends a pleading look at LeFou who saves him this time.  
  
“Constance, Gaston, sit down, dinner’s ready!” LeFou huffs with a huge grin. “We have to get up early.” Gaston watches LeFou turn and point a fork at Constance. “And _you_ will have a long bath, Gaston and I had one yesterday! And yes, before you ask, we do have a tub here, too. It’s in the shed where we dress the kills. I’ll get it in in the morning.”  
  
Gaston does as ordered and sits down, propping his leg back up on the footstool. “We’ll sleep out here, LeFou and I. You can take the bedroom, Constance.” He immediately shoots a look at LeFou, pleading with him not to argue. “The bearskin is big enough and with the covers,” another look at LeFou, “and a pillow for my leg we’ll be just fine!”  
  
  
***  
  
  
He’s not really happy about Gaston’s decision that they sleep on the bearskin. But, the bed _is_ too small for two people. No matter how close they lie to each other. They had not even used it when they were just friends. Rather, they had simply snuggled up to each other as they used to in the army. As they do now. Gaston’s leg on a pile of pillows and his head on LeFou’s shoulder, snoring straight into LeFou’s ear. LeFou chuckles and reaches up to pet Gaston’s cheek. Oh how much he loves the man. And Gaston loves him.  
LeFou knows exactly what that locket he now wears around his neck symbolizes. They can hardly wear each other’s rings. He stops petting Gaston and lifts the locket up and looks at it in the dim light of the dying fire. LeFou needs something for Gaston too. Something worthy of this locket. Of his love.  
He does have an idea... maybe his late maman’s wedding ring would be just right?  
LeFou has always had in mind to give it to the love of his life. And yes, it had always been Gaston. And as it is so clearly a woman’s ring, Gaston could just wear it around the neck, as a man with a mistress from beneath his standing would. Should anyone see it, they would come to their own conclusions. And, most importantly, Gaston knew what the ring meant to Fidélio. Yes, it is a good idea. LeFou yawns and turns a little, reaches for Gaston’s hand and closes his fingers around it to fall asleep. It’s not as if they could share a bed from tomorrow on until they arrive in Paris.  
  
When he wakes up he’s huddled under both blankets, the smell of coffee is wafting through the air and there are hushed voices coming from Constance’s room. LeFou focuses a little more and begins to understand some of the words.  
  
“... you really did go all out… these corsets… so much money….”  
  
That is Constance’s voice and she sounds so very touched, LeFou instantly pictures her pressing her face into a dress. “No one _ever_ has done so much for me…” She sounds close to tears now and LeFou sits up to hear even better.  
  
“Don’t you cry on me _again_ sœurette! I told you, it’s a pleasure…”  
  
Oh, Gaston sounds close to crying out for help. LeFou chuckles and stretches, then yawns loudly, hoping to cause enough distraction to keep Constance from crying and to save Gaston _again_ .  
LeFou laughs as Gaston comes bolting from the room and announces towards him, “bonjour, mon amour! I made you coffee and warmed some bread!”

picture by https://missvoncheese.tumblr.com/  
  
Je déteste les sangliers!: I hate boars!  
Frérot: affectionately, dearest brother  
Sœurette: affectionately, dearest sister


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for sticking with me!  
> Thank you for all the comments too! They always make my day.  
> I love you dear readers.  
> Have fun.  
> Also: I maded an art!

 

Constance pulls the brush through her still damp hair one last time, then places it down and begins to coiff her locks into her trademark hairdo. It’s one of the few things she has allowed herself until now. Now though - and her eyes mist over again - she is dressed in one of her new, beautiful dresses and wears a pair of dainty shoes. She sniffles and finishes up her hair. With a wavering smile Constance looks herself over in the large mirror and reaches up to touch her face. She thinks she’s never been this cleanly shaven before. Her skin feels deliciously smooth. And with her sideburns gone, and the little bit of powder and rouge she applied, her cheekbones look even more prominent.  
With a slight, pleasurable shiver she slides a brush along her lips and watches in awe as color blooms on them. Once she puts the brush down, Constance, for the very first time in her life, looks into the mirror - and at _herself_ \-  without the dread of losing everything once more upon leaving the room.  
Something is bothering her though, and with a slight smile she reaches for one of the soft scarves Gaston so abundantly provided and ties it around her neck, making sure it covers her Adam’s apple. Something she has done for years, not able to bear the sight. Constance wonders if Gaston had caught onto it and if this is the reason she now owns a foulard in every shade, from rose to peach, her favorite colors no less.  
One last glance into the mirror and she’s ready to leave the room. Maybe.  
Constance keeps staring at her reflection and suddenly sees all the things which could give her away. The strong arms, her wide waist - she knew she should have pulled the corset tighter, but then she’d not be comfortable sitting in a coach all day -, her slim hips… The list is endless in her mind.  
In the end she decides to just let Gaston be her judge. Her big brother has seen enough women in and out of their clothes to tell her if she passes or not.  
Constance takes a deep breath and steps out of the bedroom, chin high, shoulders squared.  
  
  
***  
  
  
“Why is she not coming out?”  
  
Gaston looks over at LeFou and places his hand on his lover’s shoulder, “she’s probably afraid we won’t like how she looks, mon amour.”  
  
LeFou throws his hands up and exclaims. “C'est n'importe quoi!”  
  
Gaston in turn just looks at LeFou which promptly has LeFou squinting at him, “don’t tell me you don’t know what that means! I know you do!”  
  
Gaston swallows his laugh as LeFou adds, “I also know that you know what ‘je ne sais quoi’ means, _mon Capitaine_ !”  
  
“Of course I know what it means,” Gaston shrugs with a smirk, “it’s just that Belle never had it. Contrary to you, mon amour!”  
LeFou gives him a perplexed look and Gaston almost cracks up. But it’s the exact moment, his little sister finally decides to leave the bedroom, and Gaston forgets everything else for a moment.  
She’s beautiful. There’s no other word needed to describe her.  
LeFou beside him just stares at her, too, then finally they find their voices again. “Perfect, sœurette” Gaston says reverently.  
  
“Beautiful,” LeFou agrees in awe, “the perfect Lady!”  
  
Gaston watches as Constance relaxes, letting out a breath, shoulders loosening up a little and then she moves towards them and Gaston takes her hand and kisses it with a soft smile. “I mean it, Constance, you’re perfect. Just like me!” He wriggles his brows at his last words and she giggles, relieved tears shimmering in her eyes.  
  
“Mercie bien, frérot!” She turns her head to look at LeFou, same soft smile still in place. “And to you too, beau-frère.”  
  
“You're welcome, Constance!” They say in unison and all three of them laugh a little.  
  
Gaston motions towards the bedroom, “is everything packed up? We have to get these onto the cart.”  
  
  
***  
  
  
LeFou can’t stop staring at Gaston, who sits beside Constance, who drives the cart. LeFou has a nice view from atop of Galette. They all are dressed much finer than they’ve been in a while, not as fine as for the ball of Prince Adam and Princess Belle, but they will undoubtedly have all eyes on them.  
  
He was not wrong, he thinks as they ride into Châtelaine and some people blatantly ogle them. Almost everyone tips his hat towards Gaston, the ladies curtsy.  
LeFou almost laughs. Had it really taken the coach being brought in and for Gaston Grosse to wear red velvet with green accents for them to remember his status?  
Apparently so.

He can’t wait to see Constance’s face when she realizes for good who she is now, her new social standing. LeFou wonders if she’ll slap Gaston. It’s a rather huge thing to just dump onto someone without any warning. Even though LeFou is sure she suspects something, what with all the spoiling her rotten Gaston has done since he’s adopted her.  
  
LeFou keeps an eye on Constance as they round the corner to Monsieur Jean Jacques’ house, he sees the exact moment she spots the magnificent coach, her eyes going huge as she stares at it and then she turns her head slowly towards Gaston. LeFou expects her to say something entirely different when Constance points at the coat of arms emblazoned on the carriage’s side, arching her brows.  
“So, we _do_ use antlers in all of our decorating Comte de Châtelaine?”

 Gaston laughs and agrees with a cheeky, “oui Comtesse!”  
  
  
  
C'est n'importe quoi: That’s bullshit  
Beau-frère: brother-in-law

Comte, Comtesse: Count, Countess

 

 

 

It has been used by the family Grosse since Gaston’s great grandfather.  
Explanation for this coat of arms and which means what, starting at the top:   
The antlers on top are the dominant character (I’ll come back to this further down).

The helmet faces forward because the Family Grosse looks danger in the eyes.  
Next, we start with the background colors.   
Green, it's called vert in heraldry and stands for hope, joy, and loyalty in love.   
It's up top because love always triumphs.   
The white is silver, called argent, it stands for peace and sincerity, the form it has

is called raguly and stands for difficulties that have been encountered.  
The red, called gules, stands for warrior or martyr; military strength and magnanimity.

Now the arrow, it stands for readiness for battle  
The antlers stand for strength and fortitude, and they are on the helmet, because these are Gaston Grosse's predominant characteristics.   
(Things not according to the rules: the arrow crosses all three colors because the family Grosse is ready to fight for all three of these things.)


	27. Chapter 27

  
  
Constance is a little upset, still; not about suddenly being a  _ comtesse _ , more about the fact she never realized before who Gaston really is. It’s disconcerting how they never realized it in Villeneuve. Because, thinking back, Gaston Grosse Comte de Châtelaine never hid it. He just did not mention it and never even gave a sign of displeasure at not being treated like a comte. That said, she thinks, he actually  _ had  _ been treated like one. She wonders if the curse had something to do with them not remembering.   
She arranges her skirts as she sits down in the coach and holds out a hand to help Gaston in - he helped her before - together with LeFou. She gets a warm smile for it.   
Gaston even thanks her.   
  
“Thank you sœurette!”   
  
He  _ is _ different from before. Well, from how she knew him; according to LeFou, this is how Gaston used to be before they came to Villeneuve.   
Constance watches as Gaston turns around to take the blunderbuss and his sword from LeFou, and she’s a little surprised when he passes them to her.   
  
“Here, hold these for a moment.”   
  
Constance takes a hold of the blunderbuss and the sword, followed by two small pistols. She smirks, “if anyone tries to rob us, we’re certainly prepared!” And she shows off her own three throwing knives securely strapped around her shank.   
Suddenly, she realizes that she just bared her leg to a man, brother or not, and drops her skirt as fast she can, but Gaston only stares at her for a moment, then smirks back and gives her an appreciative nod. “That’s my little sister!”   
  
The proud note he says it with makes her feel all warm.   
  
  
***   
  
  
Gaston looks around, wondering where to store his weapons. Seeing as the compartment under Constance's bench already holds the food, he comes to the conclusion to stuff them into the compartment beneath his own bench. Usually there are covers and some sheepskin rugs, but these have already been taken out, piled high beside Constance. She patted them earlier and said they could use them to make Gaston’s leg more comfortable and he had easily agreed.   
He holds one hand out for Constance to place the blunderbuss in it and unlocks, then lifts the seat with his other, only to freeze in place, lid half opened.   
“Who…” Gaston begins, taking in the sight in front of him. It’s a girl - boy? - in a much too salacious dress, torn at the front, and half of their face swollen and bruised.   
  
“Please,” the child says and Gaston tilts his head at the shaking, small voice and tries to look as nonthreatening as possible, “cher monsieur, don’t let them take me back to the molly-house.”   
Well, that certainly answers the question of boy or girl, not that it is relevant to Gaston’s decision. This child will never go back to a brothel as long he has a say in it. He nods once and, closing the bench again, hisses, “stay silent!”   
Then he sits down.   
Constance stares at him with huge eyes, “what’s going on?”   
Gaston makes a shushing noise and whispers. “It’s hero time, sœurette. Take the weapons and stuff them under your skirt for the time being.”   
She does as he says and Gaston himself places the blunderbuss on his lap.   
He’d like to know how the child got into the compartment. Sure, the coach has been left in Monsieur Jacques’s courtyard overnight, but that’s still no reason to find a little fugitive in there.   
  
“LeFou,” Gaston uses his crutch to knock on the ceiling, “on our way!”   
  
Gaston just looks out the window as the horses begin to pull - Magnifique and Galette are tied to the back of the coach for the travel - and tries not to think too much about their secret passenger. At least he now knows how LeFou’s maman must’ve felt when she had taken care of Gaston’s bruises, with eyes full of rage against his father. Gaston wants to shred the monster who hurt the child - molly? Whore? - to pieces.   
Gaston keeps his eyes trained on the passing houses and the few people waving at them, he’d swear some of them take a step back at his dark stare.   
He just wants to be as far away from Châtelaine - and it’s only molly-house - as fast as possible, so he can have a closer look at the child. Because that is what their little stowaway is in his eyes: a child.   
Gaston would never force a child. He’d never force anyone for that matter. He does have some honor.   
  
  
***   
  
  
LeFou wonders all the way up to and into the forest what’s gotten into Gaston. He’d sounded like they were in a real hurry. So he lets the horses trot and hopes there’s a reason for tiring them out this early on in their journey and that it’s not just Gaston’s ego flaring up.   
He begins to sing after while and smiles when Gaston joins, but for some reason Gaston’s voice sounds strained.   
And so, at the first opportunity he gets, LeFou steers the coach of the road into a side path, locks the break and ties up the horses, then climbs off the coach box.   
LeFou’s on the floor at the same time Gaston climbs out of the coach, using his crutch - and the  _ blunderbuss _ of all things - to lean on.   
  
“We have a stowaway, LeFou, under my seat, don’t scare them when you get them out!” Gaston says while Constance joins them outside.   
  
LeFou frowns and takes the blunderbuss from Gaston before he climbs into the coach.   
He has their stowaway out of the compartment and into the sun in no time. The child is now trembling and tries to hold his shredded dress close over their chest, gangly legs peeking out beneath it.   
LeFou’s frown deepens, the child’s beaten black and blue, almost as badly as Gaston back at his father’s worst times.   
LeFou gives Gaston a look, then the child, or are they a youth? They’re certainly tall enough, coming up to LeFou’s chest as they are.   
  
“Who are you and how did you get in there, and why did the Comte not throw you out?”   
  
There’s a sniffle then a shaking voice, “my name’s Pier… Perrine!” And then the youth begins to talk fast, clearly intent on getting it over with. “My father sold me to the whore-house after he caught me wearing one of my sister’s dresses. Told me to make money like a girl if I wanted to be one…” and there are the tears and sobs. “I ran away when I got sent to a... a…”    
  
It’s Constance who drops to her knees, pulling the youth into her arms and begins to shush them. “Doesn’t matter how you ended up in the coach. You’ve chosen just the right hideout.”   
  
The child sobs out, now clinging to Constance, “my maman showed me the crest and kept telling me that our comte’s a hero…”   
  
LeFou and Constance nod at the same time, “he is!”   
  
Gaston clears his throat. “Your mother's right, Perrine. But I don’t know what we shall be doing with you now.”   
  
LeFou is impressed when Constance suddenly pulls herself up to her full height and squares her shoulders. “I need a maid. We will keep her!”   
Gaston blinks and LeFou fears he’s going to say no, but then Gaston asks the  _ girl _ . “How old are you, child?”   
  
“Fourteen, milord,” is the stammered answer and LeFou sees Gaston nod.   
  
“Well, then, looks like we acquired you a maid, sœurette. Get her cleaned up with some water and give her something to dress in. We will buy her some clothes in the next village.”   
  
LeFou watches his lover rub the bridge of his nose and then heave a sigh. “Payment we will talk about later, for now, food and safe passage must be enough. LeFou can you help me? I need to…” Gaston waves towards some bushes and LeFou catches on, helping him behind them.   
They’re just out of sight when Gaston sags against him with his whole weight, heaving another, even deeper sigh. “Fidélio, mon amour, what am I doing?”   
  
LeFou chuckles a little, holding Gaston up with his arms around his slim waist and pulling him closer, kissing his neck and then states. “What you do best. Being a hero, mon Capitaine”


	28. Chapter 28

Constance watches Gaston sleep in the coach. She’s glad he gets some sleep at all. Their rooms have been side by side in the last two inns they stopped at, and she knows he’s been awake the last few nights. He looks the part - and she has heard his desperate yells on one occasion. She was about to check on him but then Gaston had quieted down. In the end she stayed in her room, putting it down as a him having a nightmare.   
They all had them. Her new maid, Perrine, included.   
Perrine, Constance chuckles. The girl was shocked when Constance made her clean up herself and then gave Perrine one of her simpler dresses. Then, later, after Constance had taken out her own shaving kit - right before they finally reached an inn late the next day - Perrine was even more shocked and watched Constance shave in awe.   
But never once did the girl ask a question.   
They had bought Perrine new clothes too, fitting ones which suited a maid more than the dress Constance had lent her. Which, in turn, made Constance realize, that yes, Gaston had gifted her with a wardrobe worth a fortune.   
  
“Fidélio!”   
  
Gaston’s sudden exclamation pulls Constance out of her thoughts and has Perrine - who’d been asleep too - startle. Constance looks at her brother curiously and wonders if he’s having yet another nightmare. But the next sound he makes is much too close to what she heard in some nights at their old house. She’s just contemplating to wake him up when he moans in a positively sultry manner. So she decides to rouse him and spare Perrine’s sensibilities, and her boot finds Gaston’s shin.   
He jolts up and blinks at her, clearly disappointed to be so suddenly dragged out of his dream.   
  
“Oops,” Constance smiles angelically, “my foot slipped, frérot!”   
  
  
***   
  
  
After being awoken so rudely from such a  _ sweet _ dream, Gaston tries to reign in his mood. Sleep would be so nice. But then again, if he dreamed of LeFou again he might have to deal with an unwelcome bodily reaction. So he stares out of the window for the next few hours, nodding off and jolting awake again until they reach a small stop.   
  
He’s loath to call this an inn. There are literally only two guestrooms - Gaston’s secretly very grateful for this, as no one thinks twice when he offers to share his with LeFou - and the dinner is barely edible. But right now, as Gaston lies atop the small bed only in his breeches and shirt and watches LeFou bustle around, he’s glad to have LeFou this close and alone for a little while.   
  
“LeFou,” Gaston asks, watching the other spreading out his bedroll, “you don’t really plan on sleeping on the floor,  _ mon amour _ , do you?” And he’s aware that his voice sounds a little whiny, but he could not care less right now.   
  
“I’m not. But it should at least look like I did!” LeFou smirks over his shoulder while he removes most of his clothes and then moves towards Gaston. “Scoot?”   
  
Gaston shakes his head and pats his lap, giving LeFou his best come-hither look. He doesn’t dare to open his mouth to speak, because Gaston’s sure his voice would sound much too needy.   
LeFou shoots him an incredulous look, but it changes to a smirk as he moves towards the bed. Gaston sucks in a breath and all but gasps when LeFou pulls out his hair tie and lets his hair loose. “Tease!”   
  
LeFou’s answer is a teasing lick of his lips while he straddles Gaston’s lap and then leans in. Gaston lifts himself up onto an elbow to meet him halfway, one hand now at LeFou’s hip.   
Oh how he missed this, to be so close. He can’t help the noise he makes as they finally kiss. Gaston needs to hug LeFou, to be closer; and so he does and they both let out a surprised yelp as they fall backwards into the mattress.   
“Shh, mon Capitaine,” LeFou scolds with a teasing note and Gaston still wonders why only he gets scolded for the yelp when LeFou grinds against him and he lets out an embarrassingly loud moan.   
  
LeFou pulls away from him a little to look down at Gaston and teases, “told you so!”   
  
Gaston shakes his head slowly and grins, “last time you threatened to make me shut up.”   
He sees the playful smirk form on LeFou’s face and closes his eyes expectantly.   
Gaston’s not disappointed when LeFou kisses him again while pressing down once more. He arches his back, hands sliding to LeFou’s behind, unfastening the laces of his breeches. Once he can push his hands beneath the fabric he sinks his fingers into the soft flesh and squeezes. Gaston smirks into their kiss as LeFou moans deep in his throat, and he pulls back to tease. “Shh, Fidélio!”   
Above him, LeFou lets out a small chuckle.   
  
  
***   
  
  
LeFou gives up trying to be careful the moment Gaston arches up for the fifth or sixth time, big hands kneading his bottom. “Oh mon Capitaine…” he breathes it against Gaston’s mouth, then bites gently on his lover’s tongue and slides a hand between them. Down over Gaston’s stomach and further, gives the seizable package there a gentle squeeze. Gaston beneath him bucks up.   
  
“Fidélio,” LeFou shudders at the raspy quality of Gaston’s voice, “I’ve missed you so, please touch me?”   
LeFou answers Gaston’s plea by pulling and shoving at Gaston’s breeches until he’s able to free his straining manhood. He feels Gaston tug at his own breeches and then both their pricks are in LeFou’s hand, hot and silky and deliciously hard against each other. He can’t stop the groan, but manages to stifle the noise against Gaston’s chest.   
Gaston isn’t as lucky, because his next moan is a little too loud, but LeFou instantly lifts his head to press their mouths together for another of these hungry, biting kisses. As he pulls back, a little breathless - hips and hand still moving - Gaston begs again to be touched.   
  
“But I  _ am _ touching you, mon Capitaine.”   
  
Gaston’s answer is a needy whimper and it drives LeFou mad with want. He knows they could go further, but then he really does want to wait until they are in Paris. So he huskily whispers into Gaston’s ear, nibbling on it between words, “once we’re in our own bed, I will touch you all over, my fingers will touch places on your body you have never dreamed of being touched...” He’s interrupted because Gaston’s fingers dig into his buttocks and he groans and bucks against him. Then suddenly Gaston’s raspy voice is right beside LeFou’s ear, hot breath tickling it.   
  
“I dreamed of your hands all over my body, your fingers  _ in _ my body, Fidélio.”   
  
LeFou almost comes at the words.   
  
“Just this afternoon,” Gaston adds and LeFou is gone, squeezing them harder than he’d anticipated. Judging by Gaston’s moan and how he twitches in LeFou’s hand it wasn’t a bad thing. LeFou lies there, atop Gaston for a moment, his hand wet with both their release, trying to understand that, yes, Gaston would not mind being on the bottom. If he could he’d get hard again right now. But all he does in the end is pressing a row of very wet kisses along Gaston’s clavicles, while Gaston pulls LeFou’s hand away from their spent pricks and begins to lick it clean.   
  
  
  
  
  



	29. Chapter 29

Constance would pull the pillow over her head to not hear the muffled noises from the adjacent room, but she really doesn’t trust what vermin might live in the grubby thing.   
At least Perrine is deep asleep and all curled up on the bedroll Gaston had provided her with. Constance has to admit though, they are more hushed than usually.   
At least Gaston will finally get some good sleep again.   
She’s just about to doze off when there’s an indistinct noise and Constance’s hand slides to one of her knives and her eyes toward the door, but nothing happens. She sighs and closes her eyes again and tries to sleep, but then there’s a snore from one room over, followed by another, deeper one. Oh, wonderful, her boys are snoring a duet.   
Constance turns onto her back and stares at the ceiling, wondering how her life will be in Paris. She’s a Comtesse now and Gaston promised her rooms, as in more than one. She has a maid. She’s expected to attend social gatherings. Which scares Constance the most if she’s honest with herself. What if someone realizes that she’s not… She stops her thoughts right there and takes a deep breath, then focuses on how much she will love to show off her beautiful new dresses and how  _ good _ she will look on LeFou’s or Gaston’s arm.   
And for a moment she knows [that in another life she could love them both](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11538102/chapters/25904952) as she has loved LeFou for a very long time. It’s her last thought before she falls asleep and Constance dreams of a small house in Villeneuve, a garden and her two men.   
  
  
***   
  
  
Gaston falls asleep warm and safe, and with LeFou’s hand in his.   
He awakes pleasantly warm still, and tries not to move. Gaston just wants to live a little longer in his dream, where he and LeFou are sharing a bed again. His head bedded on LeFou’s chest and LeFou petting his hair, tenderly calling Gaston “ _ mon Capitaine. _ ” And so he refuses to wake up, or open his eyes.   
He feels LeFou give a tug to his hair - where it’s still not grown back all the way - and then there’s his lover’s soft voice. “Gaston, it’s nowhere near morning and I know we could go back to sleep. But I think one of us should go take a look at the carriage. I don’t trust the people here!”   
Gaston groans, pushes up and nods. “Come to think of it, why don’t we just gather up the girls and leave? It’s around four in the morning.”   
  
LeFou blinks at him sleepily and Gaston thinks he’s going to tell him what a bad idea this is, but LeFou just nods. “We already paid…” He yawns and Gaston just knows he looks at LeFou like a lovestruck puppy, because his Fidélio is the cutest.   
“I was saying,” LeFou continues and reaches out to push a stray strand of hair behind Gaston’s ear and falls silent once again as Gaston nuzzles into his hand.   
  
“You were saying?” Gaston prompts and LeFou shakes his head with a smile.   
  
“You’re enormously distracting, mon Capitaine.” LeFou’s chuckle warms Gaston’s heart and the accompanying wink sends it fluttering. “I was trying to say, Gaston, if we leave now and only take short breaks, we can be in Paris by tomorrow evening!”   
  
Gaston grins, because yes, he’d come to the same conclusion. “Let’s get up then. I’ll get the girls and you get the horses ready, mon amour!” First, however, he leans in to steal a long and loving kiss.   
  
  
***   
  
  
Half a day later, LeFou isn’t so sure anymore that this was a good idea. He’s ready to fall asleep right there atop the coach box. He knows the ladies are asleep because Gaston told him so, using the small window behind his seat, but then again, that might be better. The travel is boring and he’s not sure if it will rain or not.   
LeFou startles a little when Gaston knocks on the coach roof and realizes with a sudden worry that, yes, he’d been about to doze off.   
LeFou stops the coach a little off the way and then hops off the coach box to open the door for Gaston, but Gaston’s already half out of the coach, once more using his blunderbuss and the crutch.   
  
“Don’t shoot your foot,” LeFou teases with a hint of annoyance. “I’m sure you won’t enjoy that, Gaston.”   
  
“Ah, at least you’d be awake then, LeFou!” Gaston teases right back and yawns himself, then looks up towards the sky. “Do you think the weather’s going to hold?”   
  
LeFou looks up too and shrugs. “I certainly hope it does.” He looks back at Gaston and points to some shrubbery. “Do you need help?”   
  
Gaston’s answer is a slow headshake and LeFou watches him hobble over to the bushes after taking the blunderbuss from him.   
  
LeFou keeps staring at Gaston’s back until his lover vanishes behind the bushes for good, then turns around to take a look at Magnifique and Galette. He’s just done with feeding all the six horses a small portion of oats when Constance climbs out of the coach, a blanket under one arm and the food basket in hand. “You need to eat something too, LeFou.” She smiles gently. “And we all could use a small break and some food.”   
  
LeFou nods and watches her and Perrine prepare the blanket and food and sits down, leaning against a wheel of the coach.   
He must have dozed off because LeFou awakes to Gaston’s voice.   
  
“LeFou, Fidélio. Here, eat some bread and cheese, and drink some cidre.”   
  
LeFou takes the offered bread from Gaston and the rest from Perrine and smiles, “thank you!”   
  
Once everything is stowed away again and LeFou’s about to climb back up on the coach box, Gaston reaches for his arm. “You really are too tired, help me up?”   
  
LeFou shakes his head, annoyed, “if you think I let you drive this coach with your leg you have another thing coming, Gaston!”   
  
“But LeFou…” Gaston whines and reaches out for his shoulder, but LeFou moves out of reach and glowers at his lover.   
  
“You, messieurs,” they’re interrupted by Constance’s resolut voice, “ _ both _ will go sit in the coach.”   
  
LeFou and Gaston both look up at the coach box, where Constance has taken a seat in Gaston’s spare coat and LeFou’s hat, looking to all the world like the usual coachman.   
  
LeFou laughs as she winks down at them and tips the brim of the hat, “Monsieur le comte, beau-frère, hop in.”   
  
LeFou helps Gaston into the coach and leans against his shoulder once they sit and is fast asleep before Constance even flicks the reins.    
  
  
  
  
  
Monsieur le comte: Mylord with a sarcastic touch   
Beau-frère: brother-in-law


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this is so late.  
> But I wish you all a very good start into the new year!   
> Without further ado: enjoy!

  
Constance wakes up late in the night to the sound of heavy rain hitting the coach roof and she is so very glad that she’s not driving anymore. She blinks as she throws a look out into the night and sees the downpour. “Poor LeFou, so cold and wet.”   
She turns her head and looks over at Gaston who opens his eyes and looks at her with a wry smile and then nods.   
  
“Yes, poor LeFou.”   
  
She’s touched by the soft quality of his voice and gives him a teasing smile. “I bet you’ll warm him right up, frérot.”   
  
Her brother lets out a small laugh, intent on not waking up Perrine who’s settled into the cushions beside him, so Gaston can have his leg propped up on the opposite bench. “You should go back to sleep, sœurette. We’ll be arriving in a few hours and have to stop so we can all get dressed and shaved before we reach the estate.”   
  
Constance blinks once again. “Only a few hours?”   
  
“It’s half past four in the morning. LeFou was intent on driving through the night and not waking you. I’ll not oppose him if his points are reasonable and he is in _this_ kind of mood.”   
  
Constance frowns, she knows Gaston hadn’t looked at his watch just now, but he’s seldom wrong about the time and she herself doesn’t feel like pulling out her watch, so she asks, tracing her own stubble - thank God her facial hair never grew in as fast as Gaston’s or LeFou’s - with her fingers.   
  
“We will stop before we’re too close, yes?”   
  
She freezes in her movements when Gaston reaches out and cups her cheek, his thumb tracing her cheekbone. “Of course, my dear sœurette, of course. I’d never endanger you…”   
She still stares at him long after he has pulled his hand back and dozed off again.   
  
  
***   
  
  
Gaston smiles a little as he slumps back into his seat, admiring the stunned look he has put on Constance’s face, just by treating her nicely.   
A sister. _His_ sister. He never wanted any siblings when he was a kid; especially not a sister. Always afraid and scared his father would treat any younger siblings even worse than he had treated Gaston. And now, now he loves her already after such a short time.   
Gaston falls asleep with a gentle smile on his lips.   
  
He wakes up with a start when the coach comes to a stop, and almost curls up into himself, but then remembers where he is and so he just lazily yawns and waits for the ladies to leave him alone.   
  
Gaston is not alone for very long. As he feels the coach dip again he opens his eyes and is instantly worried. “LeFou! Fidélio, come here…” and Gaston already tugs on LeFou’s wet clothing, getting him out of it. “You’re frozen to the bone and can’t get sick, not as long you take care of me and I can’t yet take care of you.”   
Gaston’s a bit confused when LeFou gives him the most dazzling smile. “What, Fidélio?”   
  
“You said almost the same when I came back from the ball and you pulled me into your bed.”   
  
And just like this Gaston remembers and purrs, undoing and pushing down LeFou’s breeches, “come here, let me warm you!”   
There’s a low laugh above him. “We can’t do this…” Then there’s a pause which Gaston uses to manhandle LeFou’s hips closer to his face. “Even though the ladies are inside, getting ready,” LeFou finally continues.   
  
Gaston frowns while LeFou kicks off his shoes and breeches. “Where are we anyway, _mon amour_ ?”   
  
He hears LeFou giggle and wonders if it is because he’s rubbing his stubbled cheek against LeFou’s thigh, or because of his question.   
  
“At our old ‘castle’ milord Gaston!” LeFou smiles and Gaston chuckles as he remembers the old guard-house - the one the furthest away from the main house, at the back boundary of his father's estate. Well his estate now. They used to play here often.   
  
Gaston smirks broadly as he licks the soft and supple flesh, moving from the highest point of LeFou’s hip all the way down, then pulls back to drag the blanket off his own shoulders to sling it around LeFou’s. “Can’t have you freezing, even if I am about to warm you up…”   
  
Hands find Gaston’s hair and pull as LeFou laughs above him. “What a corny line, _mon capitaine_ . Better set that mouth of yours to work.”   
  
Gaston laughs and does as told, kissing everywhere in reach but not where LeFou seems to really want him. “Promise to be silent, Fidélio?”   
  
“You're the loud one…” the words sound breathless and the fingers in his hair dig in deeper. Gaston has to admit that LeFou’s concern is valid, because even as he swallows him down, Gaston moans around LeFou’s hard flesh.   
  
  
***   
  
  
LeFou shivers - well, he’s been shivering for a while now - but this time it’s not from the cold.   
Gaston’s mouth feels searing hot on his straining flesh and he digs his fingers into Gaston’s hair and tugs.   
His knees almost buckle as Gaston begins to suck and then Gaston moans, sending vibrations through LeFou’s body. He stares down, eyes wide and already on the edge. “Gaston!”   
  
LeFou’s the one letting out a moan now and - Gaston pulls him closer, taking him deeper into his throat and LeFou lets out a small whimper, trying to pull Gaston away. “Ga… Gas… Gaston!”   
  
Gaston looks up, all wet _smirk_ and sparkling eyes, and LeFou bites his own lips to keep the sounds down.   
There’s no better sight and feel than Gaston’s lips wrapped around LeFou’s manhood.   
Then his Capitaine flicks his tongue and squeezes LeFou’s backside and LeFou pushes forward and spills, tugging hard on Gaston’s hair.   
  
  
A little while later LeFou is dressed once again, dry and fresh clothes, looking himself over in the mirror they propped up on the table, then turns to Gaston. “You look like the comte you are. Done up like this, Gaston.”   
He almost chuckles when Gaston preens and pulls himself up to his full height. “I am a man among men, I do have it on best account.”   
  
LeFou laughs at this and teases, “a truly intimidating specimen!”   
  
It’s half an hour later when they pull up to the front gate of the estate, and another thirty minutes when they drive up to the house. LeFou spots the other carriage first and knocks on the roof to alert Gaston.   
  
“Looks like René’s here… At least there’s a carriage fit for a burial, mon Capitaine!”  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear readers, my sincerest apologies this comes so late. Thank you for your patience, and without further ado: have fun!

 

  
Constance is staring out of the coach, she’s more than a little excited to finally see where she is to spend her new life.   
As they cross the main gate, the sun breaks through the clouds like in a fairy-tale and she breathes a small sigh. It’s beautiful. They drive up to the house and Constance swallows. The house is huge - she’s sure it’s almost as big as the prince’s castle back in Villeneuve - and the morning sun is painting it in golden light. To her it looks magical.   
She hears LeFou’s knocking, but is too focused on the house to listen to him properly.   
Then Constance blinks as the coach makes a gentle curve and she’s faced with a carriage. The horses are beautiful, long limbed and strong, black as the night, just like Magnifique - they could be his foals - but the truly stunning thing is the open carriage itself; just as dark as the horses, black gleaming varnish and plush black velvet seats and even the wheels are painted black. Just as black as the horse’s tack. It must be worth a fortune.   
  
“It is René’s carriage.”   
  
Gaston’s voice pulls her eyes away from the carriage and she looks at him curiously, head tilted, prompting him to tell her more.   
  
“He has an unhealthy liking for the color black. He insists it’s a family tradition. We used to call him Comte Noir.”   
  
Constance nods. “And how did he know we would arrive today?”   
  
“He didn’t!” Gaston laughs. “I bet he just estimated when we should be expected and then planned to show up every morning and bother the staff until we actually arrive! Our estates are sharing a border.”   
  
  
***   
  
  
LeFou’s reining the horses in and stops the coach right in front of the main door. He gets off the coach box while a servant comes to take care of them.   
  
“Comtesse, Comte,” LeFou pulls the coach door open and can not stop the cheeky smile for the life of him as he bows, “we have arrived!”   
  
Only a moment later LeFou watches Gaston square his shoulders, incline his head with the most regal smile - and LeFou has to stop himself from swooning. Sometimes he doesn’t know if he wants to fall to his knees in front of Gaston or punish him for playing him so.   
  
He _does_ swoon when Gaston’s smile gets that little cocky touch and his lover’s hand is stretched out towards LeFou.   
  
“Help me get out, pretty please, my dear Fidélio?”   
  
LeFou’s cheeky smile deepens and he reaches in and bodily lifts Gaston out of the coach, much to Constance’s and Perrine’s amusement. “You’re very welcome, my Lord.”   
  
“Oh you!” Gaston laughs and pinches his side, and LeFou giggles.   
LeFou’s just reaching out to take the crutch from Constance as a familiar voice drifts over to them.   
  
“Finally! Welcome back, Gaston,” there is a short pause as René stumbles over LeFou’s moniker but then he goes on, “and LeFou!”   
  
LeFou watches René making his way over to them, loudly inquiring, “so Gaston, where is this beautiful surprise you wrote of?”   
  
“Ah, bonjour René!” Gaston grins, still halfway hanging onto LeFou and LeFou can pinpoint the exact moment their friend gets all the right implications.   
  
“Oh,” René drawls and LeFou wants to step away from Gaston, but his lover holds him in place with the most self-assured grin ever.   
“Oh,” René continues a grin forming and landing a punch to LeFou’s shoulder not occupied by Gaston. “Did he finally come to his senses? He’s always been smitten with you, but too much of a...”   
  
“If you say coward I’ll beat you up, René, crutch or no crutch!” Gaston interrupts their friend while LeFou’s mind is trying to solve the puzzle of _Gaston_ being the one smitten with him.   
  
René lifts both his hands in a gesture of surrender and gives a small nod and smirks. “I was about to say oaf.”   
  
LeFou has no time to intervene as Gaston’s fist flies and punches René’s arm, but considering they’re now both laughing and hugging, LeFou thinks everything’s fine. He laughs as he’s snatched up into the hug with them and for a moment it’s like in the good times of their childhood.   
  
  
***   
  
  
Gaston feels like a weight has been lifted off him the moment René resolved to tease him. One person less to worry about then. He disentangles himself from the hug and finally takes the crutch from Constance, then offers his hand to her, helping her down out of the coach. “Constance Grosse, Comtesse de Châtelaine, it is my honor to introduce you to Comte René d'Herblay.” He watches as his friend bows down low and kisses Constance’s hand.   
  
“Ah, Comtesse Constance, you are indeed the most beautiful surprise I’ve ever laid eyes on. Welcome to Paris, I am nothing but your humble servant.”   
  
Gaston grins at how unimpressed his sister looks. Certainly, she’s flattered, but that's about it and her tight smile very clearly shows it as she pulls back her hand.   
  
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Comte d'Herblay!”   
  
Gaston hurries over to her side, leaving it to LeFou to introduce Perrine to Gabriel who has just come up to them, and grins. “Let me show you the house, sœurette!” He gives René a smile. “Come over for dinner tomorrow, you old charmer, but for now let us settle down.”   
  
René laughs and straightens up patting Gaston’s shoulder and then with a quick move snatches Constance’s hand again for a kiss and purrs, “until we meet again, beautiful rose.”   
  
Gaston stares after him just as dumbfounded as Constance as René hops on his coach and hollers a goodbye towards LeFou while already driving off.   
  
Gaston looks over at Constance as she clears her throat, “is he always like this? And - are you related? He looks like a younger you in mourning, frérot.”   
  
He shakes his head with a laugh. “ _We_ are not related to him. And, on my honor, that was the bubbliest I’ve ever seen him. Must be your very own magic, my dearest.”   
With this last tease he leads her off into the house.   
  
“If you don’t like it, you tell me, I’ll take care of it!” Gaston offers as they enter the main room of Constance’s new quarters and he watches contently how she flits from one corner to the other, hand trailing over a curtain here and over a velvet cushion there.   
  
“Ah, here you are.”   
  
Gaston turns to see LeFou standing in the door and smiles at him. “Would you like to see your room?”   
  
  
  
  



	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait and the late update but real life got in between. Thank you for sticking with me. Without further ado... have fun!

Standing in front of the screen hiding the door between his and Gaston's room,  
LeFou can feel the nervous energy emanating from his lover by his side.  
They’ve yet to go into the captain's rooms since they arrived a few hours ago, even after spending a decent amount of time in LeFou’s own rooms.  
Coming to think of it, the last time they spent here, Gaston and him had both been sleeping in this room. Back then LeFou hadn’t wasted a thought about it, much too used to sharing a tent, but now?

“Gaston, what…” LeFou flinches a little as Gaston cuts him off.

“Fidélio, what about the painting?”

Gaston’s voice is trembling faintly as he keeps talking, and LeFou instinctively puts a hand onto his arm to lend him some strength, making Gaston feel safe.

“I don’t think I can face him. I am too happy.”

LeFou hears what Gaston isn’t saying and he pulls himself up to his full height and squares his shoulders as he shoves his bulk in between Gaston and the door.

“I go ahead, if the old bastard is still in there I take him down,” oh how he wishes he had taken Gaston’s father down years ago, “and we will burn him in the garden.”

Gaston’s relieved smile makes LeFou’s heartbeat speed up and he steps around the screen and turns the key.

The room is clean and lit golden from the sun - shining straight onto the painting still mounted over the fireplace.  
LeFou stars at the old bastard for a moment, waves of anger and hatred rolling over him, then he walks up to the desk, grabs the chair and brings it over to the fireplace. 

“I’m finally taking you down, you devil.” He grins as he steps up and takes a hold of the life-sized painting. It is heavy and LeFou almost topples over as he gets down from the chair, but he doesn’t. Once he opens the door to the corridor he intends to place the painting down, but then he catches sight of the landing to the foyer. It’s not a conscious decision - but he’d argue one of his best - as he drops the painting over it a cursory glance later.

The satisfyingly loud crash as the frame splinters on the marble down below does not only have the servants running, but Gaston as well, as he hobbles out of LeFou’s rooms, a spooked expression on his pretty face.

LeFou gives the most innocent smile in answer to the incredulous looks he gets from the servants and shrugs.

“Oopsie, I may have dropped it...!”

 

***

 

Gaston is slowly relaxing against LeFou's chest, head on his lovers shoulder.  
He is glad that the rest of his rooms have been redecorated on his orders before they arrived, but he wonders how the old bastard had been able to still have the servants under his spell, enough to go against Gaston’s direct orders, years after his death.

“Thank you, Fidélio, mon héros.” Gaston murmurs it against his lover’s neck, voice barely there. He feels LeFou tense before the answer is breathed against his ear in a relieved sigh.

“Always, mon Capitaine.”

 

Gaston wakes up sweat soaked and tangled up in his covers, white knuckled fist pressing against his mouth, desperate to keep any and all sounds in. His ears are straining for his father's steps before he’s all the way escaped his nightmare, but all he hears are Fidélios deep breaths and the occasional snore from his side. Relieve floods him and Gaston forces his fist’s painful pressure away from his teeth and places his head onto LeFou’s chest, listening to his steady heartbeat.  
Gaston sighs when LeFou’s hand comes up and slides sloppily over his sweat damp hair, and he marvels that his lover’s urge to console him is even apparent while LeFou’s asleep.  
He tries to fall back asleep, but it’s for naught and so the next time LeFou turns around, Gaston sneaks out of bed - no simple feat with his still splinted leg - and then hobbles awkwardly down to the kitchen.  
Where the light is on and he can hear voices.  
Oh great. He isn’t looking forward to catching Gabriel and the cook red handed once again.  
He’s about to redirect his steps to the library when he hears a small sniff and then Constance’s voice. “It’s really no trouble, Perrine. Let me make you a warm milk with some honey. It helps with nightmares!”

Gaston smiles tightly and pushes the door open, “she’s right.” He nods at the both ladies then asks, “make one more, sœurette?” 

His little sister gives him a soft smile and a nod while she stirs the milk and Gaston sinks heavy into a chair at the kitchen table. “So, huh, nightmares?”

Perrine nods and Gaston grunts in agreement.

“You’ve got them too, Milord?”

Gaston frowns, “don’t call me that. If you must, call me Captain Gaston. But I’d really prefer…” He stops mid rant and nods. “Yes, I have nightmares too. I think all of us living here have them.”

 

***

 

Constance rolls over in her bed, the sun tickling her awake, Gaston and LeFou’s voices flitting in through her open window as they belt out a soldier’s song in the garden.

It has almost been a week since the first night she heated up milk for Perrine and Gaston, and somehow Gaston has convinced LeFou to let him take off the leg splint since and let him train to walk properly again.  
Gaston in turn took care of LeFou getting his spectacles and Constance is very much impressed by how much LeFou took a liking to reading. Almost every evening, Gaston’s feet in his lap and by a crackling fire.  
And she herself is mostly occupied by figuring out what the topic of their first ball should be. She just can’t yet wrap her mind around the fact that she’s truly a comtesse now. A lady of standing.

A loud yell and the clanging of metal against metal has her turning to the window. She’ll strangle her brother if he took up his rapier already, with his leg still barely holding him up!

Constance leans out of the window - her day dress catching some sun rays in its golden applications - and sees Gaston applauding madly while LeFou has D’Herblay at swordpoint.  
She watches in amusement as d’Herblay’s eyes catch the reflections and he drops his rapier, “I yield, LeFou! I yield!”  
His laugh carries up to her and she smiles as he bows. Then she immediately rolls her eyes.

“Bonjour mademoiselle la comtesse! Your beauty shames the sun on this wonderful morning!”

“Can you not?” She chuckles and lifts her hand in a wave.

René d'Herblay smiles merrily. “Apparently all I can do this morning is lose!”

Constance doesn’t know what possesses her when she offers, “I could come down and show you how to win. Or, for a start, how to handle a rapier!” 

D’Herblay bows and and yells up. “Please do! Gaston here told me how good of a sword’s woman you are! He told me you’ve bested LeFou in the past!”

This was true, she had, but not in skirts. Constance decides there’s no better time to find out if she’s as good in skirts as in breeches at handling a rapier and so she grins, nods and then turns back inside to tie her hair up and grab her rapier.


End file.
